


And He Sat On The Edge Of Skies

by julien_schu



Category: Dragon's Dogma
Genre: Action/Adventure, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julien_schu/pseuds/julien_schu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lord Julien begins to develop an interest in the Arisen and his pawns, but mostly for the former.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the game and for the game's full ending in later chapters. If you haven't played the game to the finish, do not read this.

When I heard of Mercedes' return to Gran Soren, my interest was piqued with the excited whispers of a new Arisen, who had escorted her party. I had heard of the Arisen as a young boy, when my nursemaids would recite tales to entertain me on days with ill weather that kept me indoors. While I had long outgrown such outlandish stories, I would still like to meet this man who reportedly single-handedly slew a hydra and see if he were the slightest akin to those stories from my childhood, and so I set off to observe this Arisen for myself.

The first time I set my eyes on him however, it was not only with some reservations, but also with a taste of disdain. This – this _boy_ was the Arisen? Granted, that tribute of a hydra's head to the duke was no small feat, but I had suspected that the youth had plenty of help. There were other soldiers in that encampment, after all.

And he had not actually killed the hydra, correct? He merely managed to cleave off one of the monster's many heads. All knew that in order to vanquish the massive beast, one had to kill not one, but all of its serpentine heads. Mercedes may be easily impressed, but I have much higher standards than that bleating she-goat.

I remained in the shadows of an alley, where I was free to watch the boy unnoticed. Said boy was standing near the fountain in the urban quarter, marvelling at the stalls and shops. 'Tis seemed that it was his first encounter with the capital, from his delighted mien of an excited provincial. He had hair the colour of ripe wheat, lightly sun-kissed skin, and eyes the colour of the very sea that edged Cassardis, the fishing village this so-called Arisen hailed from. Several strangers – his pawns likely, as their faces lacked emotion – stood near him. Two were magic-users, while another a tall, bulky warrior wielding a hammer; a contrast to the youth, who was lightly armoured and had a pair of daggers strapped to his waist, as well as a bow and a quiver full of arrows on his back, which I saw in full view as he leaned over the fountain to point out something to his companions.

But mayhap I had judged him too harshly, I chided myself. I had unfairly expected someone who had to live up to tales and legends, whereas such tales and legends are far from the current reality. While this so-called Arisen was young – likely he had not seen his twenty-fifth summer – he certainly had the air of someone who was used to wielding weapons. He will have plenty of opportunities to prove himself.

And then of course, he had to ruin his own reputation by falling into the fountain, much to the amusement of the city folk, and to the aghast to one of the mage-pawns, who quickly sought to retrieve his drenched Master.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

The second time I laid my eyes on the Arisen was on an occasion neither expected, nor welcomed. While the first was in the bright, bustling city of Gran Soren, the second was in the dark, musty catacombs, where the members of Salvation – and I, garbed as the Night's Champion – attended their gathering.

I only half-listened to Elysion's mad ramblings on the soul's inchoateness while his enchanted followers paid zealous attention, but his next few words caught everyone's attention – invited or not.

"Come to join our flock, Arisen?" Elysion asked aloud, and then blasted away with a spell. Part of the upper levels fell in a loud cascade of stone and rubble, and when the dust settled, the Arisen slowly stood from where he had landed on the floors of the Gathering Hall. I swiftly slipped away under the cover of confusion, for I could not risk having my identity revealed. I did not leave immediately however, for I wanted to witness how the Arisen would deal with Elysion and his spectral minions. If the boy was able to make his way here within Salvation's own heart, then surely he would be able to handle the consequences.

I was not disappointed.

Even though he was interfering with some of my own designs, I had to admit that the boy fought well, and surprisingly, so did his pawns. My limited experience with pawns had been frustrating; while the creatures resembled men, their behaviour was otherwise. While most performed reasonably enough as single fighters, they had difficulties fighting in a larger unit and comprehending commands in battle.

The pawns in this new Arisen's company however, were nothing like the seemingly-mindless shells I was accustomed to. They were well-trained, and battled with the passion and ferocity equal to if not more than that of the men I have under my personal command. One in particular struck my eye; a sorcerer garbed in blue robes, who paid greater attention to his Master than the others. The pawn flung magical balls of flame and light at their enemies, but was always ready with a hand to steady his Master, who occasionally over-exerted himself.

I then left, for I already knew who would win the battle.

I looked forward to seeing the boy again.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

Our third meeting was weeks later, in Edmun Dragonsbane's audience chamber. By then the capital – and I daresay, almost all of Gransys – was eager and thrilled over the news of the Arisen's feats and exploits. The duke himself was impressed enough to grant the boy an audience in his court. I myself had earlier dismissed some of the Arisen's feats as mere childhood tales, but after witnessing his actions in the catacombs and hearing high praise for him from Ser Maximilian Eizenstern – one of the few in Gran Soren whose word I could rely on – I must confess that I was wrong about the boy.

Nevertheless, not all were so delighted with the newly Arisen's rising star. There were whispers in the city streets, mocking the 'fisher knight', even accusing him of being an impostor who so eagerly sought the duke's favour, he had even hired numerous underlings to act as his pawns in some elaborate and ridiculous charade. Similar quiet murmurings were also heard in the duke's halls, some of them courtesy of that wretched little man, Feste, but some were from other nobles and knights.

Alas, the Arisen's entrance into the court, while certainly memorable, was not the impressive one he had likely hoped for. The poor boy looked bewildered, clearly taken aback by the massive chamber; the nobles and knights in their rich silks and burnished plate and mail, in contrast to his own well-worn clothes and dull armour; and last but not least, the presence of the Dragonsbane himself. It did not help that the boy's head was adorned with a jester's crown – Feste's sly doing, no doubt – and those in attendance laughed mockingly at him. Mercedes and I were the only ones, it seemed, who were disgusted with the court's appalling behaviour, and with good reason. The boy had done far more in the span of a few weeks than what some of these nobles have accomplished in their combined miserable lifetimes. He deserved far more respect – even from his enemies.

The duke's own reception of the Arisen fortunately, silenced the mocking from the court. Apart from a remark made in jest on the boy's crown, His Grace greatly welcomed his assistance, and granted him the freedom to travel as a member of the Wyrm Hunt. A meaningful look from the duke then silenced any fool who thought of uttering a word – openly, at least – against the decision.

A few members of the court sought to have a word with the Arisen after he was dismissed from the duke's audience, including that she-goat. None, I noted wryly, had the courtesy to remove or even point out the atrocity on the Arisen's head. I considered remedying that myself, when the boy's gaze met mine and his eyes widened in... recognition? Surely not, for that fleeting glimpse in the catacombs would not have been enough to raise his suspicion that I was present at that gathering as the Night's Champion. Alas, he was whisked away by one of the nobles before I could say a word, and when I looked for him again in the crowd, he was gone.

I thought nothing more of it, certain that I had naught to worry about.

Once I had spent enough time that decorum required of me, I made my excuses and left the gaggle of simpering nobles for the gates. When the portcullis was raised in order for my exit, I noticed that Ser Maximilian was in conversation with none but the Arisen himself. The boy and the Captain of the Hunt were so engaged in their discussion that my arrival would have gone unnoticed if the pawn at the Arisen's side had not discreetly directed his Master's attention.

"Lord Julien," the boy greeted with a slight nod, and there it was again when he raised his head; a slight widening of the eyes, and a flash of an expression that I could not fathom across his face.

"Arisen," I said, "I see that you have lost your crown."

"Her Grace was kind enough to remove it, else I would never have noticed," he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly as he stared at his feet.

His reaction somewhat amused me. Here was yet another young man who was infatuated with the Lady Aelinore; pray that he had enough sense to leave it at just that. The duke would not tolerate any disrespect or offence against the young duchess.

"I shall remember to avoid that jester the next time I enter the castle," he added softly to himself, but I heard him all the same.

"What's this about a crown? I take it something happened in the castle?" Ser Maximilian asked. Even the pawn who stood nearby looked curiously at his Master.

"Nothing of import," I said, sparing the boy further embarrassment.

I noted that the pawn at the Arisen's side was the same blue-clad sorcerer who accompanied him in the catacombs, and mayhap the same one I saw retrieving the boy from the fountain on the day he arrived in Gran Soren. He was dark of hair and eyes, with pale skin; a contrast to his Master's own colouring. He also seemed to be about the same age as his Master, but who could tell with myrmidons? Pawn and Master made an unusual but interesting pair, I decided.

The Arisen must have noticed how my gaze had fallen on the pawn, for he immediately made an introduction. "Lord Julien, this is Lucas. My loyal companion."

This Lucas possessed better manners than his Master, for he brought one arm to his chest and bowed his head, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. "An honour, ser," he said. He certainly had more emotion than the other pawns I have seen; certainly more than that blank-faced man in charge of the Pawn Guild. Mayhap the old stories about the Arisen giving them life had a grain of truth in them, I mused. But those musings are for another time, for I had my own business to attend to, and so did the Arisen.

"We were just discussing the details of the Arisen's next mission," Ser Maximilian explained.

I nodded. "Then I will not keep you any further, sers. I bid you good day."

"Another mission already? So eager to tempt fate again, Master?" the pawn asked, his tone wry.

"Oh, do not worry about it, Lucas," replied the Arisen.

I had not gone far, so I had no difficulties in hearing the boy's next few words.

"I make my own fate."


	2. Chapter 2

"Your new friend has been making quite a name for himself lately," I said as I shook my head at the serving-girl, declining the offer of a goblet of wine. The duke was holding yet another one of his day banquets and thus etiquette demanded my presence, though I would rather be elsewhere doing something much more fruitful. Festivities at such times did little to improve my mood, although most of the other nobles present would likely disagree with my opinion, judging from their delighted conversation and manner.

"My new friend?" Mercedes replied, puzzled for a moment, before her eyes lit with understanding. "Ah, you mean the Arisen? Yes, after his deeds at the Stone of the Southwest, everyone is impressed with him. Even His Grace, as I'm sure you have noticed."

"Not everyone," I muttered softly, and she threw me a questioning glance. "The morale of the army has greatly improved, and that of the common folk, but–"

"–the same cannot be said for some of the members of His Grace's own court," she finished, and then smiled wryly. "Doubtless they are worried about their own position and their favour with the duke. But who are we to say aught about it?"

True indeed, I thought. Even now the two of us stood at the edge of the entertainment, both being strangers to the duke's court ourselves. At least I had my duties to keep me busy, and the respect of the men under my command. Mercedes had none – or at best, only a mockery – of those, though I doubt she was aware of her circumstances. While the gossiping nobles had enough sense and decorum to refrain from speaking about her situation whenever she was within earshot, they had no such qualms with me, for they had surmised that the other foreign knight was not interested in the welfare of his female counterpart. Mayhap they had even hoped to pit both against each other.

In truth, I felt somewhat sorry for her. For being a fool; a noble, idealistic fool, but a fool nonetheless. The poor little she-goat, I mused, but at least she would not end up a sacrificial lamb being offered to the dragon. She would be safe in her largely ceremonial post as the Captain of the Enlistment Corps, as she would not be sent to the front lines.

"I wonder why he was not invited to the banquet."

I shrugged. "The Arisen? I trust he would rather face a pack of starving direwolves, rather than face the wolves in the duke's halls again. Even I find the prospect of the former much more interesting."

She laughed. "You find direwolves more appealing than the young female nobles here who are more than eager to throw themselves at your feet? The handsome and mysterious foreign knight who has come to the aid of Gransys?"

One such female noble had gathered her courage and walked up to me, asking for a dance.

I politely declined.

She insisted.

I apologised and told her that while there was nothing more in the world that I would wish for than to accommodate her request, alas, I had to leave and attend to my duties.

The young lady looked disappointed, but only for a trifle moment before she set off with her gaze firmly locked on the unsuspecting Ser Raffe, her expression determined. I privately wished the poor fool luck.

"I bid you farewell, for I must now attend to my imaginary errand," I said, excusing myself.

The air of the gardens outside was a welcome refreshment; the meeting with the Arisen a surprise. I had just made my way out of the castle's massive doors when the portcullis was raised to reveal the boy, who ran all the way across the courtyard, drawing disapproving looks from the guards and some of the court attendants.

"Lord Julien," he said in greeting, "what brings you here?" He then immediately cringed, mayhap just realising that was not an appropriate question to a knight in the service of the duke.

"Imaginary direwolves."

"I… beg your pardon?" he asked, his head slightly askew in confusion.

"Nothing, nothing. What brings you to court, Ser Arisen? I trust it is with news of success in your latest task for His Grace?" I asked.

The Arisen's latest encounter with Salvation had led to the death of one of the cult's necromancers, Balsac. I knew that Ser Maximilian had been very pleased, but not Elysion. I did not care a whit, for the Salvation's problems were not necessarily mine. We both had our own goals, and just because the means to achieve them meant that we occasionally had to work together did not mean I enjoyed the cult's company.

"I must deliver my report to Ser Aldous," he said. He looked as if he wanted to say aught further, but as I waited, he fell silent.

"'Tis best for you to wait awhile," I told him, "unless you would prefer to wade through the banquet and the duke's many noble guests."

The boy's eyes widened in horror. "I believe that I shall wait. I can wait for a very long time, if necessary."

"A wise decision. I would keep you company, but I have matters to attend to."

The headgear he wore did little to hide his reddening cheeks. "Of course not, ser. Thank you for the warning."

I was about to make my farewell when I recalled my earlier conversation with Mercedes. "A moment, Arisen?" When he nodded, I continued, "It would do you well to seek allies in Gran Soren. You and Ser Mercedes have some things in common; both of you are strangers to court society, for one. She needs an ally, a true friend. As do you."

"I think I understand," he replied, his voice thoughtful, and his expression somewhat hurt. The boy must have thought that his accomplishments were enough to secure respect among all the gentry, and was let down by the truth. Still, 'twas better for him to know it now, rather than much later.

I took my leave. The Arisen's pawn was waiting at the castle gates, and he bowed slightly when he saw me. "Good day, Lord Julien," he said, his tone respectful.

"Lucas?"

"Yes, Lord Julien?" he replied, tilting his head in a gesture similar to that of the boy's. He also seemed to be surprised at being addressed directly. Not many humans would have had the inclination to do so, for the myrmidons have always been eyed with suspicion, and more often than not, repulsion. Even I found their eerie, blank faces somewhat discomforting at times, but not so with this pawn in attendance of the Arisen.

"You seemed different when I saw you last. Now you seem more… animated. Livelier."

_More human, mayhap?_

I dismissed that thought as quickly as it had surfaced.

"Oh. After a time, some pawns tend to resemble their Master, whether in terms of disposition, or even appearance," the pawn explained. "I believe that I am beginning to experience the same."

"I hope you do not acquire your Master's manners then."

"Your pardon, ser?" Again, the quizzical gesture.

I shrugged. "He has naught."

 

**\--x-x-x--**

 

It was another week before I saw the boy again, and when I did, I told myself to have a word with him about his uncouth habit of running almost everywhere.

"Arisen, you are upsetting some of the people in the castle with your rushing about," I said to the boy when he had just ran across the castle gardens, waving a hand to get my attention, much to the distress of one of the gardeners, who now looked sadly at the freshly-trampled blooms he had lovingly tendered. "Surely no errand is so important that you must jostle everything and everyone in your path," I reprimanded.

"What? No, yes – I mean, I've an important message for you," he said, ignoring my words. "'Tis from Ser Daerio."

Ser Daerio's garrison at the Stone of the North was one of the many that came under my jurisdiction. "What is it?" I asked. The Arisen then explained the supply situation at the garrison. After he was done, I nodded and told him that the issue would be swiftly remedied. At the same time, I silently chided myself; I should have not been remiss in keeping track of the supply lines. A personal gesture would be appropriate to reassure the men in the garrison, I decided.

The boy did not mind delivering some rations from my own personal larder to the men in the garrison. In fact, he seemed quite eager to return to Windbluff Tower. I noted with no little amusement however, at how he ran the first few steps to the castle gates, and then abruptly stopped. The boy then turned to look at me with a guilty expression on his face, waved one hand in apology and then walked away.

I could have sworn one of the gardeners let out a huge sigh of relief.

 

**\--x-x-x--**

While the Arisen had ceased his habit of running in the castle, I learned some days later that he still needed to learn to knock.

He came barging into the chamber I used whenever I dealt with some mundane matters that involved writing missives and such, startling the cleaning maid. After profusely apologising to the poor woman, he asked me for advice.

"A griffin hunt?" I repeated, while he nodded. Ambitious, but I trust the boy would do well in the hunt. He had shown great skill and promise in all the tasks assigned to him, completing them to a most satisfactory manner. However, the duke's men may not possess his skill and enthusiasm, and I warned him of that.

He thanked me for the advice and was about to leave, when I asked him to wait. "I must confess," I told him in all honesty, "that at first I had not expected much from you. Clearly I was wrong. You have proved yourself time and time again."

"Thank you," he said, beaming with ill-disguised delight. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

"'Twas my pleasure. Is there aught else you require?"

Alas, whatever words he wanted to say would have to wait, for a knock on the door interrupted our conversation. One of the guards entered the chamber with a few rolls of parchments in his arms and proceeded to explain the instructions he had been trusted with to me. When the guard left, the Arisen had already gone, but he had left a small cloth-wrapped bundle on my writing desk.

I opened the bundle to find that placed in the folds of the cloth was a freshly-baked pie; one commonly made for the festivals here in Gran Soren. I had developed quite a liking for the treat during my time in Gransys, but I was certain I had hidden it well. Not even my men knew of my frivolous secret, except for–

I sighed and shook my head.

"Ser Daerio has a big mouth," I muttered to myself, but I did not bother to fight the smile that surfaced on my lips.


	3. Chapter 3

The past few days had been somewhat trying; I was kept occupied with reassigning the troops, rechecking the supply lines, and another hundred and one minor quandaries plaguing the duke's army. I decided that I would never understand why someone like the Dragonsbane would allow the affairs of his men to fall into such a state – up to the point of practically discarding the whole burden on a foreign knight, instead of paying personal attention to it himself. Mayhap it would be best for all – myself included, for my frustrations with Gran Soren's nobility have reached their peak – if the wyrm were to descend on the capital now and kill us all in one fell swoop.

My mood further soured this morning when I was summoned by the duke, who tasked me to go to Greatwall to privately oversee the preparations at the fortress. I would have welcomed the opportunity to leave the wretched walls of the castle, if it were not for His Grace's wish for me not to travel alone. My blood boiled at the very notion of having an armed escort. 'Twas an insult to my personal honour and my house, for unlike most of his household I was not a frail lordling who fainted at the very thought of facing physical danger.

"I am more than perfectly capable of making the journey myself, Your Grace," I protested, "and I do not see the reason for an escort. Or is Your Grace no longer confident in my abilities?"

"No, far from it. However, there have been reports of those wretched skeletons appearing at almost all the major roads. We do not underestimate your skills, Lord Julien; we merely do not wish to underestimate our enemies. The trek to Greatwall is a long one, and Salvation's reach seems to have grown longer in the past few months. Gransys is grateful for your presence and aid, and I do not wish to risk any misfortune falling upon you."

I would have protested further, but the duke's stony expression told me all; that nothing I could say or demonstrate would change his mind. 'Tis would be easier to just gracefully accept his decision, and seethe later in private. "As Your Grace wishes," I said, bowing slightly before taking my leave.

Once I reached my chambers, I summoned a scribe and instructed him to pen and then post a notice regarding my need for an escort to Greatwall, my mood far too foul to write it myself. It was much later, when my temper had cooled somewhat, that I realised that I should have looked over the missive first afore it was posted. Still, the deed was already done, and thus there was naught I could do but agree when a guard returned with word that someone had accepted the assignment and would be waiting at the inn the following morning. I contented myself with the possibility that my travelling companion, if not competent for escort duty, would at least be decent company in my journey to Greatwall. And if he or she failed on both counts, well – I would just make my way to the fortress myself.

I rose early the next morning, so I could take my time with my preparations. Once I had donned my shield, weapon and armour, I made my way to the inn. 'Twas still early in the morning and no one who seemed to be my escort was in sight, so I decided to go and purchase some curatives from that peddler Madeleine, who had just set up shop in the capital.

The wench seemed happy to see me – or more likely, to see my pouch full of gold coins – and apparently, was delighted enough to repeat her offer to warm my bed, which I ignored. She was comely enough, I admitted, and in other circumstances I may be inclined to bed her; however I did not believe in mixing business with pleasure, and I might require her services again in the near future. Her disappointed pout and her calculated tug at her bosom may have caused other lesser men to reconsider their decision, but had no effect on me as I left her shop and went back to the inn.

"Lord Julien!"

I turned to see none other than the Arisen himself waiting at the inn's doors, his hand raised in greeting. "Good morning. Are we ready to leave?" he asked.

"You are my escort to Greatwall?"

The boy frowned. "You sound disappointed, ser."

"Not disappointed, merely surprised," I said in all honesty, for I had half-expected some lone mercenary, or even a small detachment from the Enlistment Corps.

He looked puzzled at my reply, but said naught about it, choosing instead to direct my attention to the two pawns standing nearby. One was a dark-skinned mage who had the weathered appearance of a veteran. The other was a tall man clad in brown and green; a ranger, judging by the longbow strapped on his back. "We shall be travelling with you. The old mage there is Haluin, and the tall silent one is Robb," he introduced. "And you've met Lucas… say, where is he?"

"I am right here, Master," the pawn answered as he stepped out of the inn, carrying a small bundle. "I was just fetching some supplies for our journey."

I had to cast a second glance at the pawn, as his appearance had greatly changed. Gone were the plain blue robes, for the sorcerer was now clad in a warm coat dyed a brilliant shade of red, with its edges trimmed in gold thread. A cape fashioned out of a direwolf pelt lay across his shoulders and upper back, the snow-white fur a striking contrast with the red coat. Gold bands engraved with arcane symbols decorated his wrists, while a gold circlet shaped like laurel leaves crowned his head, completing the admittedly impressive ensemble.

The Arisen must have noticed my surprise at his loyal pawn's change in attire. "Doesn't he look absolutely grand?" said the boy, full of pride as he slung one arm around Lucas' shoulders. "He would not look out of place in any fancy court now!" he declared. His delight was infectious, for I caught myself smiling.

"I am no child's doll to be dressed up, Master," the pawn said in a long-suffering voice, "and surely you have better use for your funds, as pawns are not allowed within the castle walls–"

The Arisen interrupted him, by way of making an uncouth-sounding noise and waving his free hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Think nothing of it, Lucas," he said. "What else would I spend my gold on? 'Tis not my fault that the gear and accoutrements I am interested in are dull in appearance, compared to what is on offer for you magic-users."

I then wondered if one of the reasons the myrmidons seemed so – so _alive_ in the boy's company was because he treated them like actual brothers-in-arms and friends, rather than subordinates. It had never occurred to me to treat them other than as blank-faced hirelings who were only a smidgen better than the rabble of bandits that roamed the countryside. Or is it the Arisen himself that brings life and emotion to these pawns? Mayhap I could at least satisfy my curiosity on these creatures during my journey.

"I recommend that we head northwest and cut through the woods, then west past Heavenspeak Fort. From there we should have no difficulties travelling north to the Greatwall encampment," the boy explained his planned route. He hesitated slightly before he said, "That is, if you agree. But if you prefer a different route…."

"'Tis fine," I assured him. It was the route I would have picked anyway; I did not find the prospect of travelling openly in the plains, where one was vulnerable to enemies from a great distance, particularly appealing.

We set off soon after that, taking a somewhat leisured pace once I assured my escort that there was no hurry. I was not keen to return so soon to the capital, and was determined to make the most out of this journey. The Arisen and his party also proved to be both capable and amiable companions; the few bandits and beasts that dared to approach our small group were easily dispatched, either with arrows or spells from afar.

Capable however, was not the word I would use to describe the boy's attempts to produce our meal for the evening. There was plenty of game about and Robb had killed a fawn; I had already envisioned a warm meal of tender venison to fill me for the night.

Still, mayhap it was too much to expect a fisherman to know how to properly cook venison over an open fire. Even the pawns displayed varied reactions of disgust at the blackened slabs of meat that were supposed to pass for the evening meal.

"Is it even edible?" said Haluin the mage, and even had the cheek to poke the offending meal with his staff. His ranger comrade simply looked at the travesty and shuddered.

The Arisen flushed. "I am much better with fish," he said to me in apology. "Still, we should not let this go to waste," he continued, offering the charred meat to Lucas.

"I am a pawn, Master," the myrmidon said in an offended tone, "not a goblin."

"Fine, you cook all the meals then," the boy grumbled.

"With all respect, Master, our kind may indeed serve you better the more we learn," Lucas replied, while his master cringed, "but we will need to learn from someone who is much better at cooking food than you."

Even I had to laugh at that.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

The path we took the next morning led us near the abbey, where I noticed that the Arisen kept throwing glances at the high walls. I was about to ask what was his interest in the nunnery when his pawn asked, "Do you wish to stop by the abbey to see Quina, Master?"

The Arisen shook his head. "It's all right, Lucas," he said, "we need to see to Lord Julien first. We shall just visit her on the way back to Gran Soren."

"You are acquainted with the sisters of the abbey?" I asked him.

"Only Quina. A childhood friend. She entered the service of the Faith in hopes of helping me find a solution to my... affliction."

"Affliction? Are you ill?"

He smiled in a way that invited no further questions. "In a manner of speaking."

Odd. The boy seemed to be in perfect health and nothing I had seen of him so far had indicated otherwise. Still, if he preferred not to talk of his affliction, 'twas not my place to pursue any discussion.

Our attention was taken by other immediate concerns, however. The ranger-pawn scouting ahead ceased his steps and held one hand up, motioning us to halt. Some unspoken signal seemed to pass between Master and pawns, for the other two myrmidons looked at the Arisen once and then nodded, before silently moving to flank the humans in the party. Robb made another quick gesture with his hand before he crept away from the trail and into the trees.

'Saurian', the Arisen mouthed silently at me as he unsheathed his daggers. I nodded in reply and reached for my mace, while from the corner of my eye I noticed that Haluin already had his staff in one hand, chanting softly as he prepared a spell; likely Lucas was doing the very same.

The sound of running water grew louder as we approached the brook up ahead. I strained to hear any hint of the huge lizards the pawn had warned of, but heard nothing of the deep, low growls associated with the beasts. I could see no trace of them but this did not mean they were not near; saurians could mask their forms at will, becoming nearly invisible. Only a slight shimmer in the air betrayed their presence, and even then one had to look closely.

As we drew closer, I thought I saw the tell-tale shimmer near a pile of rocks in the middle of the brook. Mayhap four or five saurians stood in our way.

The Arisen raised one hand, and then brought it downward; the next moment a flurry of arrows shot out in quick succession, striking several of the beasts resting in the water and on the rocks. I silently praised the ranger's keen eyesight. The giant lizards roared in pain and fury, their invisible cloak forgotten in their wroth.

I instantly understood the boy's plan; Robb's arrows were meant to wound and to enrage the saurians into showing themselves, while the rest of us would finish off the beasts. The Arisen rushed ahead, and I followed into the fray with the two mage-pawns close behind.

"Sever the tail!" someone shouted; it was hard to tell who in the confusion of the melee. A blast of magical frost hurled into the saurian closest to me, turning it into a frozen mockery of the beast; a blow with my mace shattered it into a thousand shards, killing the lizard instantly. I turned to see another saurian fall to the Arisen's twin daggers, their blades swathed in magical flame. Its enraged comrade charged in my direction, crude spear aimed at my throat; 'twas simple enough for me to sidestep the clumsy attack and deliver a blow to its back, wrenching off its tail. The beast roared in agony and tried to flee, scampering back into the brook, trailing blood in the water.

"Do not allow the beast to get away!" Haluin yelled.

Two of Robb's arrows shot past us; one found its mark on the saurian's back, but the other missed. That one arrow however, was enough to slow the escaping lizard for Lucas' flurry of holy light to finish it off. Only two of the beasts were left and they came at us, eager to avenge their fallen kin.

The boy charged ahead and flung something into the air, at the same time shouting for us to shield our eyes. A shower of sparks blinded the approaching saurians; a distraction that proved fatal for the lizards as three of the ranger-pawn's arrows struck one beast in the head, felling it. A giant shard of ice – courtesy of Haluin, no doubt – erupted from the ground, impaling the other.

The beasts were all dead, and none of us were injured. I was much impressed with the combined effort of the Arisen and his pawn companions, and was about to congratulate us all on our victory when a loud roar echoed throughout the woods. The ground beneath our feet trembled, and the tremors grew stronger and stronger as the cause approached to face us.

"Cyclops!" the boy called out in warning.

I cursed as we scrambled out of the one-eyed giant's path. The other two mage-pawns showed remarkable agility as they leapt and dodged the clumsy blows from the cyclops' cudgel. Robb drew his daggers, but the Arisen shoved him away and into the trees. A sound decision, as rangers were better off fighting from a distance.

"Hinder its feet!" shouted the Arisen.

A feat easier said than done, for the wide swinging of the cyclops' cudgel made it difficult for any of us to get close to the beast. Fortunately for us all, Robb must have managed to draw his longbow. I only heard the loud twang of his bowstring as he unleashed an arrow with such force it broke off one of the cyclops' tusks. The giant howled in rage as it clasped its armoured head, allowing the rest of us to close our distance.

I held on to one of the cyclops' legs with one hand, and delivered blow after blow with my mace with the other. The Arisen grasped the cyclops' other leg, but continued his climb, scaling further up on its back. A daring act, but I knew the reason behind it; the boy intended to cut away the straps that held the cyclops' helm. Once the helm was off, then its eye would be vulnerable.

I continued to hammer away at the beast's leg, shattering away plates of rusted metal that formed its crude armour. My blows seemed to affect its footing, as the giant swayed in its steps. Alas, it did not fall, even under the added onslaught of arrows and arcane spells.

I heard a triumphant cry as the cyclops' helm fell to the ground in a loud crash. My excitement was short-lived however, as the enraged beast reached behind its neck and managed to grab the boy, who was unlucky enough to be caught in its grasp.

"Arisen!" I cried out in alarm as the cyclops held the boy, who was struggling in the monstrous grip.

"Now, Lucas!" shouted Haluin.

"None may touch the Arisen!" the sorcerer snapped, his eyes ablaze in fury. He seemed to float above the ground, surrounded by a ring of light as he swiftly chanted. A sudden sharp tang of sulphur in the air was my only warning before the first of the bolides rained from the sky. Whatever spell Lucas had cast was remarkably true, for the flaming orbs of destruction struck only the cyclops, and not even a small shard landed on the boy. The giant screamed in pain and loosened its grip on him, causing him to fall and land not so gracefully on the ground. Haluin and I raced to pull him out of the way as the cyclops finally toppled, its giant body twitching in its death throes.

The Arisen's faithful mage-pawn rushed to his Master, his ranger comrade at his heels. Once they were satisfied that the boy was fine but for a few scrapes and bruises, they sat down, exhausted from their efforts. In the meantime, I marvelled at their devotion towards the Arisen; it was at least as strong as the loyalty shown towards me by the men of Windbluff Tower. Lucas, as usual, was more attentive to his Master, fussing over the boy like a worried parent. None of the other pawns, I noted, made any attempts at banter regarding his behaviour.

As did I, since only a fool would even consider upsetting such a powerful magic-user. Especially one capable of summoning huge orbs of flame and destruction from the skies.

"Master," said Lucas weakly, "please do not attempt anything like that again."

"What, being heroic?"

The pawn stared at him.

The boy had the courtesy to look sheepish. "'Tis only a joke, do not glare at me so."

"Do not be so hard on your Master," I said, "his actions may be in error, but his motives are not. "

"I suppose you are right, Lord Julien," Lucas said. He sighed. "Even the Arisen is known to make a mistake or two."

"Or three," added the close-mouthed ranger. I would wager those were the first words he had uttered throughout our entire journey so far.

"Or four," said the elderly mage, and then smirked conspiratorially with his two fellow pawns.

"A loyal lot, aren't they?" the boy said in feigned offence, jerking his thumb at the group of myrmidons, whose innocent expressions were obviously contrived.

I laughed, amused at the now-lightened mood. "Indeed they are."

 

\--x-x-x--

 

"You _are_ better with fish," I told the Arisen when he handed me the evening meal in our camp for the night. "This actually looks appetising."

"You should rest after your meal, Master. We will keep watch," Lucas told him.

The boy grinned. "Isn't he a bit of a mother hen? Wait, actually he is more of a wife," he said, either purposely ignoring or blissfully oblivious of Lucas' exasperated expression. "He even tidies up. I keep telling him I would do it myself later, but he just ignores me."

"It would not do well for the Arisen to trip over aught in the middle of the night and end up with a broken neck," Lucas said, his tone only slightly chiding.

The Arisen chuckled. "What would I do without you?"

The pawn rolled his eyes. "Master would do very badly, I would imagine."


	4. Chapter 4

We resumed our journey to Greatwall in the morning. Fortune seemed to favour us this time, since our route was not beset by monsters or mishaps. Even the Arisen himself was surprised when we made our way through Heavenspeak Fort without any incidents. So was I, for the female bandits who made the crumbling fort their home were known to attack travellers on sight, and never showed men any quarter.

"Not even a stray arrow aimed at us? What luck!" said the Arisen.

"Why, what have you done to earn their wrath?"

He shifted in an obvious sign of guilt. "I killed their mistress' pet cyclops." At my incredulous look, the boy tried to defend himself. "'Twas an accident!" he claimed.

"How in the Maker's name could you kill a cyclops by accident?"

"Lord Julien," Lucas advised, "'tis best you do not pursue this." The pawn gave me a pleading look.

I decided to accept the pawn’s advice, even though part of me thought the Arisen’s answer would have been most entertaining. Mayhap I will pursue it in the near future. In the meantime, I decided to get an answer to a question that had been on my mind for quite some time. "Arisen," I said to him.

"Yes, Lord Julien?" he replied, his head tilted slightly.

"'Tis what you are called, correct?"

He nodded. "That is how those not of Cassardis call me, yes."

"What do the villagers in Cassardis call you then?"

The boy shifted slightly, obviously feeling uncomfortable or embarrassed to reply to my question. It mattered not, for someone else supplied the answer.

"Minnow," the elderly mage-pawn said, with an expression on his face that was far too innocent for it to be genuine.

"Minnow?" I repeated somewhat incredulously, while the boy's cheeks turned scarlet. _"That_ is your name?"

"'Tis what the villagers have always called me, so I suppose it is." At my questioning look, he explained, "Apparently I was tiny as an infant."

A minnow he may have been then, but he certainly was no minnow now. He was slightly taller than the average Gransys citizen, though he did not reach my own height. He was lean of build, but that was the norm for those who favoured the bow and dagger; he wielded his weapons effectively too, as I had personally witnessed. Calling him a minnow seemed almost an insult.

"Lord Julien?" he asked, hesitating slightly. "Is there aught amiss?"

"I believe I shall just call you Arisen."

The boy grinned. "If it pleases you, ser."

 

\--x-x-x--

 

We reached the Greatwall encampment at dusk, where the men of the garrison were more than relieved to see our safe arrival. Both the Arisen and I took a moment to marvel at the sight of the impressive keep, built to protect the land from enemy onslaught – including that of a dragon.

"Do you truly believe that you are capable of slaying the wyrm?" I asked as we stood before the fortress walls.

"Not right now. I am not ready to do so just yet. I am still inexperienced, Lord Julien. But to answer your question; yes, I do believe I can kill the dragon."

Such confidence was almost inspiring, but in my opinion, misplaced. My thoughts must have been reflected by my expression, since the Arisen continued stubbornly, "Duke Edmun slew a dragon, did he not? So why wouldn’t I be able to do the very same?"

Because it was of a different age then, I wanted to tell him; an age where the men of Gransys – regardless gentry or common folk – were noble and true. That time had long passed, and the capital was now filled with corrupt fools who were more interested in their own personal gain rather than the welfare of others. Even the duke himself had grown complacent and weak in his rule. It would be a kindness to rid the land of them all in one strike.

But the Arisen was young, and the young were naïve and full of passion, so I let him have his illusions for now. He would learn of the stench and ugliness behind the noble façade of the Gran Soren court soon enough, and I hoped that he would be spared from its stain.

"Come," I said instead, "let’s have you and your companions settled in for the night."

 

\--x-x-x--

 

It was only later during the evening that I had the opportunity to observe the Arisen and his pawns uninterrupted. The boy and his loyal mage-pawn sat close to one of the campfires, enjoying a warm meal.

The bright light of the fire highlighted the two’s features, and as I observed them I felt as though there was aught I had missed. But what? The feeling continued to plague me as I watched. Had I failed to be a proper host? No, their food and shelter for the night was taken care of. Mayhap it was merely their appearance, for I still could not get used to seeing the mage-pawn in fine attire.

Still, the two were pleasant to the eyes. The boy was indeed rather comely, and would be comelier still if his demeanour were more polished. Nevertheless I supposed that was part of the Arisen's appeal that had many of Gran Soren's fair – and not-so-fair – citizens besotted with him. And if I were to take Feste's whisperings in earnest, even a certain young duchess had also fallen for the Arisen's rugged charm.

His loyal pawn looked at him with exasperation, but there was fondness in that look all the same. And if my eyes served me well, the affection was returned by the pawn's Master, judging from the boy's gentle gaze upon the mage. I found myself wondering how it felt to have a comrade-at-arms so loyal, so devoted. I knew in my heart that the loyalties of the men under my watch belonged not to the duke, but I alone; yet their devotion was mostly borne out of personal honour or even a feeling of indebtedness, whereas the bond between pawns and Arisen seemed much, much deeper.

Was I feeling envious? Mayhap, I mused.

The Arisen must have noticed my long silence, as he turned to glance at me. And for a fleeting instant, I imagined seeing that fondness directed at me.

"Is anything amiss, ser?" the boy asked.

I shook his head. "No, I was merely thinking."

"That is certainly a trait you should emulate, Master," said Lucas.

The Arisen ignored him. "Lord Julien, despite what the legends say, not all pawns are respectful of their Master."

I laughed. "Ah, yet another exaggeration. Just like the tales of the dragon consuming the hearts of countless Arisen, I take it?" I teased. At least, I meant to.

The silence that descended upon our company was not only sudden, but awkward as well. The boy turned slightly pale, while his pawn looked elsewhere in discomfort. Have I offended them both somehow?

The boy slowly unfastened the straps of his armour, letting the leather vest fall to the ground. Next he untied the drawstrings of the shirt he wore underneath, and then tugged the shirt open to bare his chest.

A lace of discoloured skin and sinew lay across his upper torso, forming a huge scar.

"Is that… the affliction you spoke of?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper as I stared at the ghastly scar.

"Courtesy of the dragon," he said quietly.

I raised one hand to touch the healed wound, morbidly fascinated. "May I?" I asked softly for his permission. He nodded.

The boy’s skin was warm beneath my fingers, yet I still could not feel what was normally to be expected. "I… I cannot feel a heartbeat," I said, both amazed and repulsed at the strangeness.

"That is because I have no heart. The dragon has consumed it, and only the beast’s vile magick keeps me alive. Only if I face the wyrm will my heart be returned to me. Until then, I am cursed to remain as I am." He managed a weak smile. "So you see, I have a very good reason to kill that dragon. I simply _must."_

If it were not for the very evidence before me, I would have called the Arisen a liar, or even a madman. "Forgive me. I meant not to offend," I apologised.

"There is nothing to forgive, Lord Julien."

The awkwardness in the air was still present, so I made my excuses and left their company. On the way back to my own tent, I came across the other mage-pawn, who bowed slightly in greeting. I was about to ask him of the Arisen’s somewhat macabre 'affliction’ before I thought the better of it.

"If you have a question, you need only to ask, my lord," said Haluin.

I chuckled. "I take it my curiosity was obvious."

The mage grinned, displaying a row of perfect white teeth, a contrast with his dark skin. "Obvious enough to this pawn. Now, how may I satisfy your curiosity?"

As much as I wanted to know more of the Arisen’s strange state, I did not quite trust this pawn. However, the old mage could still answer some of my other queries. "It is nothing of import. I have seen different pawns with the Arisen, but Lucas seems to be in his permanent company. I was merely wondering why."

"Ah, that is simple. Our Lucas there was the first pawn who answered the Arisen's call when he spoke to the pawn legion. My lord must already know that the Arisen and his pawns share a bond. The bond however, is strongest with the first-summoned, which is why Lucas is his steadfast companion."

"Lucas once told me that some pawns even take after their Master, after a time," I recalled.

He nodded. "We are all shaped by our Master's will. Some of us do take upon our Master's behaviour, but the first-summoned are known to even physically resemble their Masters after some years."

"What about you?" I asked him. "You seem more animated than Robb, but I am quite certain that you've not been in the Arisen's company long."

"I have spent years in the service of humans before the Arisen summoned for me," he explained, "mayhap even centuries. I would like to think that I have acquired some of my patrons' mannerisms." He paused for breath. "Our kind knows neither death nor age, but as you can see, good ser," he said, gesturing at his own wrinkled face, "we can appear as old or young to your eyes. My previous patrons have been of rather distinguished age, hence my appearance."

"I also find your dedication towards the Arisen most remarkable." I turned to look at the boy and mage-pawn by the fire. "Especially his."

"'Tis to be expected of those two. Of all the countless pawns in the legion, Lucas is the one the Arisen loves the most," said the mage. And the pawn must have spent a considerable amount of time with humans, for there was an amused expression on his weathered face; I absently wondered if it were because he caught the fleeting display of jealousy on mine. "But of all the creatures of _this_ world, there is only one in the Arisen's heart."

Then he grinned.

"Even though his heart is somewhere in a dragon's belly."

 

\--x-x-x--

 

The boy and his companions decided to leave early in the morning, and I thanked him again for his service.

"You’ve earned my thanks. Now, why not stay at the encampment for another day? You could use the rest, I wager."

"Thank you for the offer, Lord Julien," replied the Arisen, "but it would be best if we were on our way. We need to report to Ser Aldous."

The pawns also said their farewells, and Lucas, being the most polite of them all, bowed deeply and wished me well before he left to join his Master and compatriots, a pleased smile on his face.

It was then I realised what had troubled me about Lucas' appearance. 'Twas not the clothes he wore, but rather, his eyes. They were the very blue of the sea, just like his Master's.

When I last saw the pawn in Gran Soren, his eyes were dark brown.


	5. Chapter 5

My frustration with the inner circles of Gran Soren grew with each passing day, as did my despise for them. The Dragonsbane seemed to show no interest in his army or to actually do something about the dragon; the so-called nobility ignored the welfare of the common folk, while the army almost equally dispassionate in their duties. If the fools were left to their own devices, Gransys would surely crumble apart within a matter of years.

Still, I did not believe in leaving things to age and chance. If the blow against Gransys were to fall, it must be swift in order for it to meet the least resistance. Nevertheless, it was not yet time for that blow to be delivered, so I had to remain patient and keep up this charade of attending to my assigned duties, while at the same time moving forth with my own designs.

Equal parts fox and lion, I once heard one of my personal guards said of me. If only the rest of the castle's household knew just how much of a fox I was.

The lion in me however, wanted naught more than to toss the pile of reports and communiqués on my desk into a bonfire, and mayhap skewer who had penned them. Most were hurried dispatches from various corners of the duchy, and all basically spoke a same tale; that the assorted monsters and beasts that roamed the land grew more frenzied each day, and that mysterious roars were heard from the direction of the Tainted Mountain. And all begged for the capital to dispatch more men and weapons to their respective posts, even though they knew there were none to send.

I was pondering whether it was worth the effort to pen a reply to the missive I was reading when the door opened with some force that it sent a small breeze into the room.

"Arisen," I greeted without even bothering to lift my eyes from the parchment on my desk, as I knew that no one else would barge into my work chamber without announcing himself. "I see that you still have yet to learn to knock."

The boy coughed guiltily. "Forgive me, Lord Julien. Am I disturbing you?"

"You are a distraction indeed, but a welcome one." I put the parchment aside. "What can I do for you, ser?"

"I seek some advice."

"If it is within my ability to give it, then I will. What troubles you?"

He sighed, and I found the distraught expression on his face strange, as I was used to seeing the boy in good cheer. "The result of Fournival’s inquest was announced today," he stated.

That nobleman with a head for business, I recalled. Ser Daerio had recommended him to me several times in the past. "Yes, I heard that the verdict was in his favour. You were responsible for gathering all the evidence used in the inquest, correct?"

He nodded.

"Is that what is troubling you?"

"In a manner of speaking. I spoke to everyone I could think of, even escorted witnesses to Gran Soren to speak for, or against him."

"And?"

"I was so sure that he would be found guilty. Even some few who spoke for him had admitted that he was not altogether innocent, and had made illicit deals on more than a few occasions." He shrugged. "So why did the verdict turn out so?"

I laughed, but not unkindly. It seemed that the Arisen had finally come across the less-than-scrupulous dealings of Gran Soren’s upper echelons, and he was not handling it well. I had hoped his naiveté would have remained untouched longer, but it seemed that circumstances did not warrant for such hopes. I then told him, "Do you seriously expect things to be so simple? Black or white, with no grey in between? If Fournival were to be found guilty, who would do business with Gran Soren then? No business would mean no wealth, no wealth meant no taxes, and no taxes meant no coin in the duke’s treasury."

"I never thought of it that way," the boy confessed. "Why must things be so… so difficult?" he complained, almost child-like in his manner.

"‘Tis the nature of the world to be difficult," I said, "I suggest that you do not dwell on it too much."

"Thank you, Lord Julien."

"So how goes your hunt for the dragon?" I asked.

"Chamberlain Aldous says that the duke still has some Royal Orders for me. I doubt that I’ll be able to face the dragon just yet." He raised his hands aloft in a gesture of exasperation. "I hope that His Grace will be done with those orders soon, for I cannot wait to retrieve my heart. I do not intend to remain like this forever."

_Like this?_ Does he mean–

"Do you mean to say that as long as the dragon is in possession of your heart, then you will never age?" When he nodded, I asked, "So why not leave the dragon to its devices? Eternal youth sounds like a blessing."

I had pondered on including the Arisen in my plans for Gransys, but had decided against it. The boy was still too naïve for what I had in mind, and Salvation would definitely oppose the very idea to begin with. But I was rather fond of him, and privately did not wish to see harm to fall upon him. As I understood it, there were other Arisen before him and the duke; that meant not all Arisen had managed to slay the dragon they were meant to face in some glorious duel. Some likely perished in battle, or simply stayed away from the wyrm altogether. Mayhap I could convince the current Arisen to the latter. Eternal youth seemed to be a much greater boon than any title the duke could bestow upon him.

Alas, his very next words removed that possibility.

"A curse is what it is," he said, shaking his head, "for 'tis unnatural to be walking around without a beating heart in my chest!" He let out a sigh before he continued, "And I cannot allow the dragon to roam the land and attack another settlement, just as it did with Cassardis."

"I suppose that you are right. But if an Arisen were to naturally age upon the return of his or her heart, then how do you explain the duke? His Grace should appear to be much older than he is, if your argument holds true."

"'Tis a mystery, is it not?" he replied, frowning. "Mayhap the duke's long life and good health is some kind of reward for defeating the dragon. If so, then I will refuse it."

"Most people would welcome such a reward."

"Aye, but I am unlike most people," he said, and rather stubbornly too, I thought.

I shook my head in amusement. "Indeed ser, you are definitely not."

He let out another sigh. "Thank you for your time, Lord Julien. I apologise for interrupting you in your work. And thank you again, for the advice."

"Always a pleasure. I bid you good day, Arisen."

He bowed slightly, smiling, before he left the room; I winced slightly as he shut the door with a force that was a trifle excessive. Mayhap I would reprimand him of that later, but for now I still had those missives to deal with. I was about to retrieve the parchment that I had set aside when I noticed a new addition to the considerable pile of things on my desk.

"You devious little imp," I muttered, "just when did you leave that there?"

As before, resting on my desk was a freshly-baked pie.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

My family believed in providing a well-rounded education for the sons and daughters of the house, and thus had hired not only the best scholars, but also the most renowned armsmasters available for my education as a child. My tutors had instructed me in the arts of penmanship, the ways of the court and some scholarly pursuits, while my armsmaster and the household mage taught me both swordsmanship and spellwork, as well as strategies and tactics in the battlefield. All had stressed on the importance of being fully prepared; a lesson that I had not fully understood then, but now appreciated.

One particular proverb both man-at-arms and mage were fond of repeating to their student in those days long ago soon became a central belief of my own personal credo, and I often repeated it to the men under my command:

_He who wishes for peace, then let him prepare for war._

The men of the Stone of the North understood and shared my beliefs, and thus had sworn fealty to me. All saw what Gransys had become, and what had to be done to remedy its vile taint and influence. We carried out our plans with the utmost care, for the smallest slip could betray us all and our designs would be for naught. Each secret missive, each stolen cache of arms was sent to the Windbluff Tower under the cover of the night, a time when many feared to travel the roads due to Salvation’s undead minions.

Still, even the most careful of preparations could not fully hide our actions for long. Soldiers gossiped like old women, while merchants and peddlers were far worse. Or a particularly brave traveller or messenger might have seen aught somewhat amiss, and had thought naught of it as he babbled drunkenly in the alehouse. A whisper and two soon reached the court, and one of the duke’s chamberlains – I could not ascertain whether it was Aldous or Fedel, as I needed to appear not _too_ interested in the affair – had begun some kind of clandestine investigation. Nevertheless, Ser Daerio stated that the matter had been taken care of, and I took him for his word, for he had never disappointed me.

Today however, I could not help but think that I should have taken care of it myself. Mayhap the events of today would not have come to pass, or at the very least postponed as I would have bought us more time.

Somehow, the duke had discovered our plans of revolt. I had ridden to the Stone of the North to try and salvage the situation, but it was too late.

The sounds of fighting in the courtyard had not ceased, but I could no longer hear Ser Daerio shouting commands to the men of the garrison. While I would personally vouch that each and every one of the men of Windbluff Tower were more than decent warriors, they were also outnumbered at two to a man. Mercedes had brought a company with her, and a considerable reinforcement had also been dispatched from the duke's garrison at the Blighted Manse to aid her troops.

Mercedes had also brought the Arisen with her.

The she-goat cursed at me and my treachery, and I was far more than happy to return the favour. Did she even know why her dear father had sent her to Gransys in the first place? Surely not to aid the Dragonsbane, for she brought no men with her. Poor little noble she-goat, so convinced in herself that she had failed to see just how little of use she actually was.

Oh, for the pain of truth was the most painful of all, the most difficult to accept. She shook in fury and humiliation, and continued to bleat most pompously, but I was more interested in the reaction of the man standing close behind her.

The dark cloth that covered the Arisen’s head in a mask akin to those worn by trained assassins concealed all but his eyes, but even the headgear failed to hide his obvious fury, and mayhap disappointment. I did not blame him. To have someone you had thought of as an ally betray you was an injury many could not stand to bear.

His fury was enough for him to step forward to challenge me himself, but the current situation demanded that he should act as Mercedes’ second. While he was of common folk, he was also of a soldier enough to understand the rules of a duel.

At least I thought he did.

The outcome of the duel was obvious from the start; Mercedes, while admittedly well-trained, still had very little experience in combat, whereas I had fought in many battles, felling men and beasts alike. I had planned on simply chastising her a little, perhaps disarming her before leaving her to wallow in righteous self-pity and humiliation, but I had not planned in the Arisen interfering.

My teachers would have been disappointed in their pupil.

Mercedes had recklessly charged forward, and it would have been simple to deflect her thrust with my shield and bludgeon her unguarded side with my mace. Her blade struck harmlessly against my shield, but I had not the opportunity to counterattack as a force slammed into my side, causing me to stagger some steps away.

That stubborn boy had invited himself into the fray, disrupting the duel.

So the Arisen had decided to play the gallant knight to the bleating damsel? So be it, I decided, though I must admit I felt more than little remorse at having to fight the boy, and mayhap even slay him.

My remorse, as it turned, was unnecessary.

His footwork and stances were unorthodox, but his strikes were deadly and accurate. While normal daggers would have barely nicked my plate armour, the Arisen’s blades were enchanted with magical frost. The twin daggers shone in their white-cold fury as they sliced parts of my armour to ribbons, the cold was such that it made steel brittle at the blades’ very touch.

My shield had some chance of protecting me from the Arisen’s dagger-strikes, since it was magical in nature. The boy must have realised this, for he rushed to deliver a flurry of blows at my right side, mayhap aiming to take advantage of the more vulnerable area or even to disarm me.

One of the daggers bit deep into my side, and the frost enchantment burned into my flesh. I gasped, and then staggered as its twin sliced even deeper into my chest.

The blow was a fatal one, and we both knew it.

I dropped down to one knee and tried to force myself to stand, but the pain was far too great. And so I fell to the ground, with barely enough strength to hold my head, bracing myself with an elbow. I barely remembered the words I spoke to him; I only knew that they were honest and even with my fading vision, I saw it in his eyes that he understood.

I was glad that he was the one who bested me in combat, and equally glad to die in his company. I was now ready to meet whatever fate the Maker had decided for me in death. Then I felt my body grow cold, and there was nothing but blissful darkness surrounding me. The pain had disappeared, and its place emerged a strange sense of content that my very last vision was of someone I had grown to respect, just when I thought that was no longer possible in the corruptness of Gran Soren.

The bliss was suddenly wrenched away from me in one single painful burst of warmth, and then I found myself gasping for breath as my eyes opened.

"What–" I blurted, but my starved lungs forced me to heave for air, cutting off the rest of my words. Strong arms helped me to a sitting position as my breathing slowly calmed.

"You stupid bastard!" I heard a familiar voice curse at me and as my vision returned to its full clarity, I saw the Arisen kneeling at my side. The boy tugged the bit of cloth covering his lower face down, revealing his furious expression. "What were you thinking?" he raged.

"Arisen? But how?" I said in bewilderment. Was I not dead? Or was this some joke the Maker had played upon me? I looked around, but all I saw was the same scene before I had fallen. Mercedes was standing some distance away, while the Arisen’s faithful mage-pawn stood even further.

A bright glow in the Arisen’s hand gave me the answer I sought. The boy was holding a rock the size of a man’s fist; a Wakestone, or a Reaper’s Scorn as it was commonly known. The Wakestone's glow dimmed as it slowly disappeared into nothingness. I instantly recalled the description given of it by one of my teachers: _a rock ensorcelled with arcane magick to restore the dead to life._ So I had indeed, died.

"Why?" I asked him.

"Because!" he said in that infuriating stubbornness of his.

I started to laugh at the silliness of his answer, but ended up in a fit of coughing instead. I waved away his attempts to assist me as I stood. What a day has this turned out to be – first being bested by the Arisen, and then brought back to life by him as well? I owed him a most interesting debt, and I told him so.

There was less fury in his eyes now, and his expression had turned into one of relief. "Do not attempt that again," he snapped at me.

"I shall do my best, ser."

As I would no longer be judged by the Maker, it was fitting that I would be judged by the man whom I sought to betray. I pledged to the Arisen that I would return to Gran Soren to face whatever punishment the Dragonsbane had in store for me. The boy still trusted me enough to accept my word, and wished me luck before he went to attend to the still-devastated Mercedes.

All this while, Lucas had stood patiently near the archway at the far end of the enclosure. The pawn also looked somewhat relieved at the strange outcome of the day’s events.

"Lord Julien?" he said as I passed by his side to leave.

I halted my steps, and then looked at him.

"He would have been very upset if you had gone," the pawn said, a slight smile on his lips.

I could not find a suitable reply to that, so I nodded in acknowledgement and left to prepare for my journey back to the capital.

 


	6. Chapter 6

My return trek to Gran Soren was uneventful, with neither beast nor bandit attempting to cross my path. ‘Twas a pity, for I would have welcomed a distraction or two. As such, the journey gave me more than ample time to think on my current predicament, as well as the fate that was waiting for me in the capital.

 

Another man, mayhap, would have made use of the opportunity to flee and hide. ‘Twas likely easy enough to do so, for the duke’s soldiers would not risk their lives searching the land when there were beasts – living and undead – to worry about.

 

Another man did not have the honour of his house to protect, nor would he have to break his word to the Arisen.

 

I felt a smile forming on my lips; all the things I’ve committed, and yet all I was concerned about was breaking a promise to that stubborn boy.

 

Nevertheless, I’ve still honour in me, despite what the duke and his court would likely think, and thus I intended to honour that promise as a knight. I cared for naught what judgement awaited me; I only prayed that by facing the court by my own will would spare my family and my house of further embarrassment and humiliation.

 

I also hoped to plead for leniency; not for me, but for the families of the soldiers of Windbluff Tower, as the men were merely following the words of this disillusioned knight. Their kin should not face any reprisal for the deeds we had committed.

 

Was I overthinking the matter? Would the Dragonsbane stoop that low? Mayhap, and mayhap not, for even his chamberlain had admitted that the duke’s behaviour had been erratic of late.

 

The city guards at the capital’s gates were amazed to see me approach them; doubtless they had received word of the events at the Stone of the North. Likely they had not expected to see me return, and had probably spent their ample time laughing at their fool comrades who had trusted my word that I would journey to Gran Soren to put myself at the mercy of the duke.

 

They were at least respectful enough not to physically restrain me, but had remained close as I made my way to the duke’s demesne. The people in the streets, peasant and noble, whispered and pointed as I walked past them.

 

What was it that the Arisen had once said? I struggled for a moment, trying to recall the boy’s exact words.

 

Ah yes, that he made his own fate.

 

As I stepped into the duke’s audience chamber, I wondered if I had that same luxury.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

"Evening meal," the dungeon guard announced as he opened the door. He shoved said meal – a bowl of gruel and a hard chunk of bread – into my cell, and then locked the door, muttering softly to himself as he walked back to his post at the entrance. I eyed the food with some considerable distaste before I reminded myself that if beggars could not be choosers, the same then applied to prisoners.

 

The trial had been swift, for the verdict had been expected, but the sentence was a surprise to me. I had expected to be put to the gallows or face the chopping block since treachery was punishable by death, but what service I had actually done for Gransys before my plans to cause unrest were hatched was apparently enough for the duke to grant me some leniency. Instead of the gallows, ‘twas my fate to dwell in the duke’s dungeons.

 

Privately, I simply thought that the duke wanted to hold me ransom; see if the treacherous knight’s family would pay a minor fortune for his return, and fill the duke’s emptying coffers. ‘Twas an absurd notion to begin with, since no noble household would be willingly associated with a traitor; I supposed it was further proof that the duke’s state of mind had been more rattled than I had thought.

 

Nevertheless, mayhap I should be thankful that due to my rank I was at least allowed my own clothes, rather than having to wear the prison rags that were the norm for the other occupants in the dungeon. My armour, mace and shield were taken away, and kept under lock and key in a storage chest somewhere in the dungeon.

 

I had just torn off a small chunk of bread when the guard’s gruff voice announced, "Visitor."

 

At first I thought the announcement was meant for one of the other prisoners, but the figure that stood at my cell door proved I had erred in my assumption. "Arisen?" I said in surprise.

 

The Arisen remained silent as he unlocked the door – why was he allowed a key? – then stepped into my cell. He shut the door behind him and remained standing as he watched me. Judging me with his own eyes, I deduced from his expression, his face no longer hidden by that cloth headgear he wore then at Windbluff Tower.

 

It was a while before he finally spoke. "Why?" he asked.

 

Why did I choose to conspire of Gransys’ ruin? To join forces with Salvation? To turn the Dragonsbane’s men against his own? To rid this land of its corruption, which if left to fester, would spread and ruin its very neighbours?

 

Oh, where do I even begin?

 

"Does it matter now?" I replied.

 

"No," he said, eyes downcast, "I suppose it does not."

 

"You did not seem surprised at Windbluff Tower."

 

He leaned against the cell door and sighed. "I had suspected you were involved in some design with Salvation," he said, "I simply had no idea that you would go that far." At my questioning look, he continued, "I followed you that night. When you went to meet that man outside the duke’s walls, and then to see Madeleine."

 

I chuckled. "So much for the mysterious Night’s Champion. I suppose you even know why I had that meeting with her?"

 

He flushed. "She told me, yes."

 

"The girl would sell anything and anyone for profit, it seems," I muttered. "But now, I’ve a question of my own."

 

"What?"

 

"Why did you bring me back?"

 

"Because." The same answer at Windbluff, the stubborn boy.

 

"‘Tis not much of an answer, Arisen."

 

"‘Tis the only answer you will receive, Lord Julien," he snapped, cheeks red with fury, and then stormed out of the cell, pausing only to close and lock the cell door before he left.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

‘Twas a week before the boy visited me again, and by then his anger at me had apparently died down to be replaced by some form of remorse.

 

"I’m sorry." Those were the first words he said when he entered my cell. Then he shoved a bundle into my hands.

 

"What’s this? A peace offering?"

 

He flushed. "If you wish to think of it so, Lord Julien."

 

"Julien alone will do," I told him, "for you are now more of lordling than I am."

 

"I apologise again for my rudeness the other day."

 

"Nothing to apologise for. In truth, I actually find your uncouth behaviour somewhat endearing."

 

His eyes widened. "Endearing?" he echoed, his head tilted slightly askew.

 

"‘Tis certainly a refreshing change from the endless grovelling and simpering of the duke’s court," I told him, shrugging. ‘Twas the truth; though his behaviour was admittedly somewhat uncouth, his gentle face had a rather soothing effect, and I felt less guarded with my words due to his plain honesty. He seemed a trifle upset at my reply; mayhap from having being compared to the court society, whose members had mostly mocked him. I tried to lighten his spirits by changing the subject. "So what have you brought me?" I said as I untied the bundle in my hands, and was delighted to find not one, but two of my favourite treats within the folds of the cloth.

 

"I thought you would welcome the change from whatever swill they feed you here."

 

"Now I feel like some unjustly imprisoned fool waiting for some love-struck young wife to bring me food, just like in those ballads minstrels were so fond of singing."

 

"Would you have preferred Madeleine to bring them to you?" he replied, rather testily too, I thought.

 

"No, she would have wanted gold in order for her to do so, and I have naught."

 

It was obvious that the boy tried to frown at first, but in the end there was a smile on his face. I was about to enjoy the first of the pies when he said, "You do realise that those pies aren’t really meant to be eaten, don’t you? A strange custom, and a wasteful one too, no doubt, but I was told that those pies were meant to be used as ammunition in some mad festival–"

 

"Would you like me to throw this pie at you, my dear Arisen? I should warn you, my aim has not been affected by my time in this cell."

 

"…no?"

 

"Then be silent and let me enjoy my meal in peace."

 

"If it pleases you, ser."

\--x-x-x--

 

I spent my days in the dungeon in quiet reflection, as I knew that I had to keep my mind occupied else I would succumb to madness and despair, as had some of the other prisoners. They had wailed and shouted in their cells; first about their alleged innocence, then about the unjustness of their fate, and finally their voices had died down to unintelligible whimpers and groans. Some never spoke again, and I would witness from my own cell their lifeless bodies dragged out to an unceremonious burial.

 

Occasionally I would have a visitor; sometimes it would be one of the few soldiers in the duke’s army who still had respect for me, or someone from the duke’s court who would be kind enough to inform me of the most recent events – I was amazed that the capital had been besieged by a cockatrice – or to even loan me a few tomes to read. Such gestures were usually denied to prisoners, but mayhap my rank had earned that privilege. (I had learned that I was considerably better off compared to the other occupants of the dungeon; unlike them, my food was actually edible, and I was allowed a small basin of water every other day to wash.)

 

Not all of my visitors however, were good company.

 

That wily little man, Feste, had the gall one day to come down to the dungeon to ‘visit’ me, sneering and taunting at me from the safety outside my cell.  How unfortunate for the jester that my jailor, Ser Jakob, apparently loathed him as much as I did – a fact of no little surprise – and had him removed; a gesture that gave me some pleasure.

 

I did look forward to the company of one particular visitor, as he was not only a fellow warrior, but he had also turned out to be a friend. A stubborn one – and mayhap a thieving one as well, for he always managed to have access to my cell despite Ser Jakob’s adamant announcement that only the jailor had the keys – but a fine friend nonetheless, with more than a few exceptional qualities.

 

One of those qualities involved this understanding of my liking for a certain baked treat, and he had never failed to bring me at least one of Gransys’ famous pies during his visits. Even today, he brought me one freshly-baked pie.

 

"And what is it, my dear Arisen," I said to him after I finished said pie, "that you find so amusing?"

 

The imp grinned before he replied, "Your appetite for those things."

 

I shrugged. "We all have our indulgences and weaknesses. I am certain you have some of your own."

 

"Indulgences? A few. As for weaknesses… one."

 

I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced with his reply. "Just one? Surely not. I could think of more than one."

 

His face grew solemn. "A very important one."

 

The cryptic answer only piqued my curiosity further. "Pray, might I be indulged with this one important weakness of yours?"

 

"Julien, you already know it."

 

His answer puzzled me greatly as I could not recall in any of our conversations – and I have an exceptional memory – of being graced with such knowledge. "Are you certain? You never told me."

 

"There are things that need not to be told," he said with an air of somewhat infuriating mystery, before he changed the subject. "I’m leaving for Greatwall tonight," he said with such finality that I instantly understood what he meant behind his statement. I have heard similar things from my men, my family, and I had uttered similar words as well; the phrase may be differently put, but underneath the meaning was the same.

 

_I’m leaving for battle, and I may not return._

 

"Indulge me, dear Arisen," I told him, "pray, wait a while." I had noted that the boy now favoured sword and shield over bow and dagger, and thus I had considered the gesture in my mind for some time. It seemed more than apt that I bestowed him with my planned gift today.

 

I stepped to my cell door and signalled for the guard. Ser Jakob had been more lenient with my small requests once he realised that I would keep to my word and was not going to flee my cell despite the many opportunities the Arisen had provided, and I hoped that he would indulge with the request I now had in mind. I spoke to him in muted whispers, and he took a moment to consider my whim before he nodded in agreement.

 

He left and later returned with a large object, wrapped in fine linen. The Arisen stared at the unwieldy package as it was handed to me. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I unwrapped it, and revealed the shield held within the folds of cloth. I then silently put the shield into his hands. He took it and gazed at it with such wonder and reverence, it seemed he had forgotten all else around him. I had beheld the same rapt expression long ago, when my lord father had deemed that I was of age and was presented with the shield.

 

A family heirloom, the shield had magical properties; family legends mentioned that the visage embossed on the shield was of the powerful mage who had enchanted it long ago, his name now forgotten. Whether the legends were true or not, I could not tell, but the shield had been passed from father to son, and had served its owners well in battle. I told the Arisen of all this, before I added, "It would be fitting that it serve a new owner in the upcoming battle, rather than to be kept away."

 

"But – but my lord Julien," he stammered, forgetting that I had told him to dismiss with such unnecessary formalities, "‘tis too much of a gift. I cannot accept such a valuable–"

 

"You can, and you will," I said to him sternly, "for I will be greatly offended if you do not."

 

He seemed about to protest again, but changed his mind and nodded instead. He strapped the shield onto his back – without any difficulty, I noted with approval – before he spoke. "‘Tis indeed a priceless gift," he said, "and I suppose it has given me an excuse to present you with a token of my own." He reached into one of the pouches on his belt, retrieving something which he clasped firmly in one fist. He motioned for me to present my hand, and when I did so, he grasped it with his free hand, and then with a deep breath, placed his closed fist on the palm of my hand. I felt something light drop on my palm when he unclasped his fingers, and I looked at my hand when he moved his away.

 

A ring rested on my palm. I held it aloft with my thumb and forefinger, marvelling at its workmanship. ‘Twas a gold ring, with a delicate line of inscription in a language unknown to me running across the centre of its band. The ring was also pleasantly warm to the touch, and seemed to shine with some inner light of its own. A token of remarkable worth indeed, elegant in its simplicity.

 

A token that was usually presented to lovers, no less.

 

"A… a ring? Arisen, do you know what this means?"

 

From his reddened cheeks and the look in his eyes, he knew perfectly well what the token entailed. His gaze was full of such hope that I found myself somewhat enthralled, unable to speak. He must have taken my silence for rejection, for the hope in his eyes dwindled, and was replaced by a swift but powerful despair before he looked away. "N–never mind," he stammered, "please forget this happened – ‘twas a foolish fancy–"

 

I grabbed him by the arm, preventing his leave. "You mistook my being overwhelmed for rejection," I told him, and only when I felt his arm relax beneath my grip did I let go of him. "It would be a great honour to wear this ring, and wear it I shall," I said, and then slowly slid the ring on my finger for him to see, all the while smiling.

 

He still looked hesitant at my gesture at first, unsure if it was genuine or only meant to humour him. I must have convinced him that it was the former, for the hope in his eyes was restored and a smile surfaced on his lips.

 

Again, I tugged him by the arm, this time pulling him close into an embrace, and in a gesture often bestowed by parents upon their children, and by men and women upon their loved ones, kissed the top of his head. "Stay safe, good ser," I whispered. I felt his arms going around me in a brief but fierce hug, before he pulled himself away and left the cell with obvious determination, the set of his shoulders resolute.

 

And like those who had such kisses bestowed upon them before going to war, he had not turned to look back, for it would have made the parting much more difficult to bear.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: some description (non-explicit) of torture ahead.

Days passed, with little to naught heard of my Arisen. One of the castle guards was kind enough to let me know that the Arisen had been sighted making his way to Greatwall, which had been taken over by Elysion and his Salvation minions. Attempts by the duke’s men to reclaim it have been to no avail, for Elysion had among his forces a number of cyclopes, as well as countless beasts and the undead. It was no wonder the duke had sent the Arisen to help his army retake the fortress.

Despite my own knowledge of how capable he was, I still could not help but worry for him. He would be facing the leader of Salvation, and I knew from my own experience that despite his madness – or mayhap, because of it – Elysion was an accomplished sorcerer and necromancer, with powers rumoured to have been granted by the dragon itself. While the Arisen’s faithful Lucas was obviously skilled, the pawn was still not quite a powerful mage compared to the cult’s leader.

I tried to while away my hours in the cell by reading the few books allowed in my possession, but my attention was frequently stolen away by concern and worry. ‘Tis almost seemed amusing, I thought as I eyed the ring on my finger, that a stubborn young man from a backwater fishing village had somehow garnered the attention, and more than just a little affection of this dishonoured knight.

"At least now I know why he brought me back from the dead, and what Lucas had meant then," I said softly to myself.

I laid my neglected book aside and got ready for bed, settling myself on the crude straw pallet in the corner of my cell. Mayhap some sleep would do wonders for my restless self. I closed my eyes, taking comfort in the tiny, but welcome warmth of the ring I wore. I imagined the warmth on my hand slowly growing to cover me in an invisible blanket, and it was on this pleasant thought that I drifted off to slumber.

My warrior instincts have yet to dull with my imprisonment, and the same could be said for the magickal training I had received, as I awakened instantly when I somehow sensed that there was aught amiss. I opened my eyes and sat upright, at the same time reaching out for a weapon, out of sheer habit. I cursed silently when my hand came upon nothing, and cursed again when I realised there was no suitable implement to be used as a substitute for a weapon.

I slowly stood, eyeing the walls of my cell. Naught seemed to have changed, but there was an odd prickling on the back of my neck that I had come to associate with the early workings of a spell in nearby vicinity. Who would be foolish or mad enough to cast a spell within the duke’s own walls?

"What manner of enchantment is this?" I exclaimed when the walls started to glow. Surely one of the dungeon’s guards would have noticed, but none came running to investigate. The glow grew brighter still, and in a sudden burst of blinding light and burning heat, enveloped the whole room, and I lost consciousness.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I had no inkling how much time had passed before I came to my senses, slowly awakening to the sensation of my cheek on some dirt floor, and feeling all manner of aches and pains in my body.

"He’s awake, master!" croaked a dreadful voice.

I had pondered feigning otherwise a little while longer so I could determine the predicament I was in, but it appears that my captors would likely see through such deception. With some reluctance, I opened my eyes and slowly got to my feet, for my head was throbbing and my vision was still blurred.

I had faced a great manner of beasts; chimeras, cyclopes, wyverns and even hydras, but even with all my experience I was still ill-prepared for what I saw when my gaze cleared.

I was standing in a large but ruined courtyard, surrounded by crumbling walls and broken towers. A dragon loomed above me, a massive and magnificent scarlet beast. Its claws were sharp; its outstretched wings spanned the breadth of several houses; and its spiked tail obviously powerful enough to render walls of stone into dust with a swipe. There was also intelligence in the dragon’s eyes; a great yet malicious intelligence that was far beyond of any creature I had ever seen, and I could almost understand why Elysion and Salvation revered the wyrm. A pack of goblins loitered near its feet, cackling as they ambled about with no clear purpose.

"Interesting," the dragon boomed in its great voice, "so you’re the one the child has bound himself to."

The goblins at the great wyrm’s feet laughed, taunting me, but their antics were silenced when the dragon rumbled in some strange tongue before it spoke to me again.

"I am Grigori, and I bid you welcome."

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I had once heard from my old armsmaster that there will come a time when every warrior would face an opponent so powerful that all attempts to fight it, or even flee, would be for naught. The opponent would take different forms for each soldier; another warrior, a beast, or an incorporeal thing like a phantasm, or mayhap a tiresome yet deadly affliction like a fatal disease.

"Muster all your courage and face it as best as you can," the man had said to me, when his young pupil asked what was the best recourse when placed in such a predicament, "for that is how all should face one’s end. Bravely."

As I stared at the great wyrm towering above me, I wondered if I could do the same. Was there enough bravery in the world to summon forth when faced with such an opponent?

"It appears that the choice the child will have to make is similar to that of his predecessor," said Grigori, though I knew not whether the words were meant for me, or for the wyrm alone.

Choice? Child? I frowned, not understanding.

"The child’s will is strong," the great wyrm rumbled, its eyes closed as if in deep thought. "Strong enough for him to seek me out and face me. He has overcome many hurdles where most would have given up in despair."

"What is this you speak of? And why did you bring me here?" I asked, almost surprised with the sound of my own voice.

Grigori opened its eyes and seemed to study me for a moment. "A great test still remains in wait for him. As your fate is now bound to his, you will be part of that test. Whether he succeeds in it will remain on the decision he makes."

The dragon’s cryptic replies only served to confuse me, to form more questions to add to those that were still unanswered. "You mean the Arisen? What test? Is that madman Elysion part of all this?"

Grigori chuckled in amusement, and the ground shook from its draconian laugh, startling the goblins around the great beast. "The one you call Elysion thinks too highly of himself in believing that he is a great part of the whole design, whereas in truth, he is only an insignificant speck of dust. You, by far, have a bigger role than his. Nevertheless, all roles should be played to the finish. The zealot is almost at the end of his, while yours has just begun."

My role?

"Like many before him, the child seeks not only the return of what was stolen, but also the truth," Grigori said, closing its eyes. "Still… Obscuris vera involvens. He has the strength of will to seek it out, though the final decision is still yet to be made."

"But the time for questions is at end," the dragon announced as it fixed its dreadful gaze upon me. There was a great sound of rushing air, and the next I knew, I was on my back and held pressed against the courtyard floor, held immobile by some sorcery. My struggle to overcome my invisible bonds must have looked ridiculous, for the goblins burst into mocking laughter. The very same enchantment that held me also forced my hand aloft, and I watched in hopeless protest as the ring the Arisen had given me slowly slid off my finger, and shot up like a glowing spark into the dragon’s claws.

"Keep him alive," the dragon ordered, and then the goblins moved to take me away.

The enchantment lifted, but afore I could attempt to fight or flee, a wave of terrible exhaustion washed over me, and carried my consciousness away with it.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I awoke to find myself chained to the walls of yet another dungeon, only this time my jailors were a pack of goblins in the service of Grigori instead of the gruff Ser Jakob. The noisy, wretched creatures seemed to take great pleasure in having in their custody a human, for they constantly hovered outside my cell door, cackling away in their language. Occasionally they would resort to the human tongue, usually to cry out, "Stupid human!" or some other similar insult, hoping to goad some reaction out of me.

I vowed not to give them the satisfaction, and remained silent to their mindless jeering.

Nevertheless, goblin soldiers apparently shared a similar trait with human soldiers, namely that they loved to gossip. The goblin pack that kept me prisoner had learned enough of the human speech to taunt me constantly with ill news and whatnot, in an attempt to make me lose my spirit when they realised that their usual repertoire of insults failed to get a rise out of their prisoner.

Through their broken shouts and ramblings, I learned that Elysion and Salvation had tried to launch an assault against Gran Soren by tricking the Arisen away from the capital before sending in their forces – the cockatrice attack that I was told of during my incarceration in the dungeon. I realised that the attack must have been the killing blow Elysion had planned to be conducted in tandem with the now-failed revolt; the necromancer had never fully indulged me with his plans, since he had never trusted the Night’s Champion.

I also discovered that I was now in an old and ruined fortress at the Tainted Mountain, its builder and purpose no longer remembered. Although I wanted to learn as much as I could about my location, mayhap in order to formulate some plan of escape, I would not deign myself to asking my noisy jailors for more, and had to hope they would simply divulge further details in their careless prattle. And thus, as hours passed and soon a day, then two, I continued to remain silent, while the goblins continued to jeer and taunt at me to no avail.

Alas, my silence had simply goaded them instead.

"The master said to keep the human alive," cackled the goblin who seemed to be the pack leader, "but never said anything about keeping him alive and well!"

The goblins denied me food and water at first; when that still failed to get a rise out of their prisoner, they resorted to beatings instead. Armed with cudgels and blunted weapons – a small mercy – they took great pleasure in inflicting pain on their captive. Hindered with the chains that bound my hands and feet to the wall, I could not fend off the goblins for long, and soon there was naught I could do but to lie on the dank floor and flinch as blow after blow fell upon me. And just when I was about to fall into blessed unconsciousness, foul water was thrown over me, forcing me back to my senses.

True to their leader’s word – as well as due to fear of Grigori, no doubt – the goblins, despite their clumsy behaviour, would be careful enough not to inflict upon their captive an injury that could be fatal. The goblins would then cease and allow me enough respite for some of my strength to return, afore my ill treatment was repeated. I was soon lost within the cycle of pain and exhaustion, and could only keep my sanity intact by holding fast to the dearest moments in my life, and witnessing them in my mind over and over again; my days in childhood with my family, treasured conversations with my close friends and comrades, and last but not least, the few precious moments with my Arisen.

My captors allowed me a longer respite at nightfall, for even goblins had to sleep. Sleep however, would not come to me, and thus I had to content myself with my treasured memories as I lay in the dungeon. Memories alone proved inadequate to last me through the night, and soon I began to construct fantasies in my head; of escape, and of dismembering each and every one of my captors with great satisfaction.

In one of my more fancied musings however, I pictured bringing the Arisen home to my own demesne. He would have looked awkward dressed in the finery expected of him; mayhap just as awkward the first time he had stepped into the duke's audience chamber, but I dared to wager that he would have looked stunning tangled in the silken sheets of my bed.

But even this small manner of relief would be interrupted from time to time with the questions that had remained unanswered. Would the Arisen come to face the test the dragon spoke of? I had faith that he would, for he was no coward – but what exactly this test demanded of him? And what did Grigori mean when the great wyrm said that I had a role to play?

It was on that thought that finally, I somehow fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I awakened to the loud racket of my captors, who were shouting amongst themselves in the goblin tongue. The whole pack seemed agitated as they scampered to my cell. Several of the goblins restrained me while another clumsily unlocked the chains on my hands and feet, before I was forcibly dragged and then thrown out of the cell. As soon as I regained my footing, they prodded me with their spiked batons and cudgels, herding me down the dusty corridors of the ruined keep to whatever fate they had in mind for their prisoner.

Tired and weakened as I was, my feeble attempts at relieving myself of my captors were easily thwarted, and likely only amused them. "Where are you taking me?" I hissed, but the goblins only laughed in my face before they rewarded my query with several clumsy swings of their weapons. Soon I started to hear Grigori’s voice, which grew louder and louder as we approached a huge chamber. I tried to determine what the dragon said, but it was hard for me to make out its words due to the echoes in the corridor, and the feat was made even more difficult with my somewhat dazed state of mind.

The goblin pack herded me into the chamber, where I nearly stumbled when I saw that the dragon was waiting. The first thought that had crossed my mind was that the great wyrm meant to put me to death, but its voice was clearer now and the words it said next dismissed that idea.

"Mankind has done this, yes, and more. But is the tapestry you weave truly of your own design?" said the dragon as it directed its attention on the other side of the chamber. I tried to turn and see whom the dragon was addressing, but the rest of the goblin pack continued to drive me further into the chamber.

"We eats when ‘ungry an’ we sleep when tired from eatin’!" announced the pack leader proudly, while a blow from one of the other goblins felled me to my knees. Then I saw standing some distance away was the Arisen, together with his pawn companions. I tried to stand, but the pack leader swung his weapon wildly at me and in my clumsy attempt to dodge the blow, I stumbled to the ground again.

I heard naught of the dragon’s next words, but the wyrm’s following roar shook the chamber and sent the now-frightened goblins scurrying away back into the corridor. To my alarm, the dragon approached closer, eyeing me with its dreadful gaze, and I summoned the last dregs of my strength to get up and flee. Even as I fled for the other side of the chamber, where the Arisen urged me on, beckoning me with his hands, my mind could not help but recoil in horror at Grigori’s words as the dragon moved closer.

"I ask again. What is your purpose here, Arisen? One path to your survival lies in my defeat. Still my heart, and you stay the coming end. Another path before you… is to offer up that which you hold most dear. Abandon all delusions of control."

To offer up that which you hold most dear.

The last time we met, he told me that he had only one important weakness. What else could that weakness be other than what – or rather, who – he held most dearly in his heart? And had not Haluin said aught similar not so long ago? That of all creatures of this world, only one held a place in his heart?

The ring. Grigori said that it bound our fates together.

So this was my role.

A blast of the dragon’s fiery breath tore the chamber’s floor apart, throwing me off my feet, while the Arisen let out an alarmed cry. I lay on the ground, stunned, but had enough wits in me to blanch away at the wyrm’s speech. It offered the Arisen a monstrous bargain; for a life, the dragon would retreat and leave the land in peace, and the dukedom a consolation. It also revealed that the so-called Dragonsbane had made the same bargain, sacrificing his love not only for peace, but also for wealth and power. I would have laughed if I had the strength; what fools we were all along, to be taken in by the duke’s deceit!

I raised my head and saw the Arisen staring at me, his face pale, and his expression greatly troubled. He spoke to me, but I could not hear his words. Nevertheless, I tried to convey with my eyes that I understood the decision he would be forced to make, and that there was nothing to forgive.

I had known all along that the great wyrm could not be slain.

"Now, choose!" the dragon shouted its monstrous demand.


	8. Chapter 8

I knew that my previous actions would have me branded a villain by some, but I felt that I have e’re followed a knight’s path. True, I had committed questionable acts, and ultimately treason, but what were those compared to the bigger lies and deceit of the so-called betters of Gran Soren? In my own way, I sought to serve my homeland, protect the less fortunate, and fight for the welfare of all. And I knew that sacrifices would be demanded in order to achieve any important goal; among others, I had eschewed the reputation and honour of my house in the attempt of achieving mine.

 

So what then was a single life, compared to the countless lives of innocents?

 

Grigori had offered a most heinous bargain indeed, but there was only one obvious choice to be made. I did not envy the Arisen for having to make that difficult decision, but at the same time, I prayed that he understood that I bore him no ill will for it.

 

As I lay on the ground with my eyes shut, I heard the unmistakable sound of footfalls approaching closer, and soon I sensed someone standing next to me. I tried to push myself up, but my efforts were stayed by a gentle hand on my shoulder. "It’s all right," said the familiar voice of my Arisen, as I felt him run his fingers through my hair. "Lucas?" he called out softly, before I heard him get to his feet and walk away.

 

"Master," replied the pawn, who some moments later laid his hand upon my shoulder, his touch no less gentle than that of his Master. I heard him whispering the incantation to a small healing spell. Confused, I wanted to demand to know why was he squandering precious energy, but I had barely enough strength to open my eyes, even as the spell slowly worked its way through my body, healing some of my more serious hurts. "As I said before, he would be very upset if you were to leave him," the pawn said for my ears alone, "and as would I, Lord Julien."

 

The spell had worked enough for me to open my eyes, and my vision cleared adequately for me to witness the Arisen approaching the dragon, who strangely enough, was gazing at him with some kind of macabre approval.

 

"Though I called you here to me, it was ever your own feet, your own will that brought you. And now again, the choice is yours, Arisen."

 

I frowned. What was the fool boy doing? What did he hope to achieve by stalling the inevitable for a few moments longer? I wanted to shout to him, to tell him that I had resigned myself to my fate, but alas, my voice betrayed me and all I managed was a soft groan. I willed for the spell to work its healing faster, but to no avail.

 

Grigori paid scant notice of me or the myrmidons, who banded close to their Master, the wyrm focusing its attention solely on the Arisen. "You would face me, then? ‘Tis a fool’s choice, Arisen. But better fool than craven. I knew your mind ere you came," said the dragon.

 

My eyes widened. Surely, the Arisen could not be thinking of challenging the dragon? ‘Twould be a fool’s choice indeed, for the dragon was invincible; no hand but for the Maker’s own could ever slay it.

 

"Still, I ask this one final time. Arisen, will you stand and fight?"

 

The Arisen halted his steps, bowed his head for a moment before he raised his head to look at the great wyrm. And in a clear voice that delighted, yet at the same time stilled my heart, he announced his decision, and his defiance.

 

"I will."

 

"Your choice is made, Arisen. As you have willed it, so shall it be!"

 

Grigori then let out a roar so powerful it shook the very foundations of the ancient fortress. The ground trembled, and great chunks of masonry fell as the walls began to crumble apart. But even as the chamber started to collapse, I saw that the Arisen – the foolish, stubborn boy – was still concerned for me. He turned back to look at me just as I rose to my feet, and in the one short glance we shared, he wordlessly begged that I leave for safety, so he could do battle without any further worry of my plight. I nodded in understanding and forced myself to make for the exit at the other end of the steadily collapsing chamber.

 

As the Arisen did in Gran Soren, I did not look back either, for it would have made the parting more difficult, this time for both of us.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I knew not how was I to make for safety as the Arisen had bid, for Lucas’ spell had only healed the most serious of my injuries, and most of my regained strength had been spent in my attempt to put a brave face to the Arisen in my run to exit the chamber. I still had no weapon to defend myself with – not that I actually had strength to even lift one – and the pack of goblins that called Grigori master might have been loyal or stupid enough to linger around.

 

Fortunately, the Arisen and his pawns must have cleared the path between the Tainted Mountain and the Greatwall encampment of beasts on their way to challenge the dragon, so I was able to make my way to the encampment unmolested, though not without some effort. Throughout my trek, I prayed with all my heart with each painstaking step that I would be granted some miracle, and that the Arisen would survive his encounter with the great wyrm.

 

At the very least, I hoped that the boy was just too stubborn to die.

 

My journey to the encampment must have taken hours, and it was with no small relief I climbed up from the ruined path and into the fortress. I was then surprised to see that parts of the mighty keep now lay in ruins; apparently Grigori had made its presence known here, for nothing less than the dragon could inflict this incredible damage. So much for Gransys’ pride.

 

"Lord Julien? Is that you? By the Maker, it is!" exclaimed one of the men of the garrison when he saw me enter the inner courtyard. Either he had not learned of my treachery at the Stone of the North, or he cared naught of it, for he rushed to my side. "What happened, ser? How did you get here?"

 

"From the Tainted Mountain," I told him as he slung one of my arms over his shoulder and assisted me to walk.

 

"From the mountain? Then… the Arisen? He headed there some hours ago. Did you see him, ser?"

 

I nodded. "He went to challenge the dragon."

 

"Then he made it!" The guard’s steps faltered slightly. "Well he did… didn’t he?" he asked, but I had no answer for him.

 

The man led me to the outer courtyard which now housed what was left of the garrison, and into a tent where the wounded were being tended to. My earlier reservation that I would not be aided was waved off by another guard, who announced with a disgusted snort that ‘twas not the time for such petty concerns. Grigori’s attack had finally moved the men of Gransys to band together at last, although a little too late.

 

When I felt that I had received enough attention to my wounds, I left the tent with some wild notion of equipping myself with armour and weapon, and then going after the Arisen. Before I could ask a guard for access to the armoury however, an excited yell caught my attention and most of the garrison.

 

"The Arisen! He’s returned!"

 

I made for the inner courtyard with a speed that surprised me, and there I saw him, somewhat worse for the wear, but still alive. He saw my coming and even from a distance I saw that his eyes widened with joy, and he ran to meet me half-way.

 

As we stood in the middle of the courtyard, both of us panting slightly, I tried to find words to express my relief and delight, but to no avail, and could only stare at him with the happiest smile I could muster. Likely he felt the same, for he stood before me with a smile that likely was identical to my own. He began to raise his arms, a gesture that I mirrored, but several of the guards’ excited shouts as the whole garrison swarmed into the courtyard surprised us both, and what could have been an embrace was stayed.

 

I had no grudge against the guards, for they too were deserving of some relief, and the Arisen of their thanks, so I stepped away to let them surround the Arisen and give him their attention. I looked aside and found the myrmidons approaching. The usually stoic Robb had the tiniest of smiles on his lips as he supported old Haluin on one arm, and the ever-faithful Lucas on the other. Haluin had enough strength and the cheek to grant me a sly wink, then a cheerful grin on his face, while Lucas, who seemed to be the worst out of the three, still had a shy smile on his.

 

"I know you said that your kind knows neither death nor age," I told them, "but it is a great pleasure to see all of you alive and well."

 

"Alive, yes," Haluin replied, "but whether we are well – ah, that would be open to debate." He paused before he continued, "I can’t feel one of my legs."

 

"We know," the other two pawns groaned.

 

"Won’t shut up about it all the way back," Robb grumbled. "Wanted to throw him off a cliff, but Lucas wouldn’t let me."

 

"And how," Lucas said with an exasperated sigh, "would you have explained _that_ to the Master?"

 

"Just say ‘twas an accident," Robb said, shrugging. "It worked for Master and that woman thief’s stupid pet cyclops, didn’t it?"

 

"By the Maker, you _are_ starting to behave like him," I said in startled wonder, before we all stared at each other and fell into amused laughter.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

The sun had set when the excitement in the encampment had calmed down somewhat, and everyone was ready to retire early for the night. The men of Greatwall had felt indebted to the Arisen and still respected my rank to grant our strange little group the bigger tents at the edge of the encampment. "Them tents are warmer and have bedrolls, at least," one of the guards had told me. "And no, ser, I insist. You’ve all gone through more than any man in the garrison did today, so you more than deserve some decent rest."

 

While the Arisen and I were considered acceptable company, the guards were still wary of the pawns, and so I deemed it my own duty to see that they were provided for the night. Once I was certain that they had a warm meal to eat and a tent to sleep in, I took Lucas aside for a short conversation.

 

"Thank you," I said, "for keeping him safe."

 

The pawn smiled. "‘Twas my duty and pleasure, Lord Julien. But this humble pawn believes that ‘tis not the company of myrmidons that the Master needs right now," he said, and looked meaningfully at the small campfire near our tents. I followed his gaze and saw the Arisen sitting by the fire, gazing thoughtfully into the yellow and red flames.

 

He looked up when he heard me approach, and as before, neither of us could think of anything to say. Since words failed us both, I took it upon myself to resume our earlier interrupted embrace and then to pin him down to steal a kiss, which he was hesitant to receive at first, but quickly returned with equal passion and ardour. One kiss, then two, then mayhap ten, for the two of us cared very little for counting before we finally pulled away for some much-needed air.

 

"You have no idea," he said, still a little bit breathless, "how I’ve longed to do that."

 

"What stayed you from doing so in the first place?" I asked him.

 

"I was not certain if my feelings were returned," he said, "but I suppose that I no longer have such doubts."

 

"Then you suppose correctly, ser. Though I must confess, not many a knight would feel the same about a man who stabbed him," I said in teasing, and then chuckled when he looked away in embarrassment.

 

"I did kill you at Windbluff Tower," he said, still looking away, "though you must acknowledge that I also brought you back."

 

"That you did, and so I do not bear you any grudge for it," I agreed, and gently held him by the chin and turned him so he would look at me. "Nevertheless, ‘twas still your fault that I was held captive by a dragon," I teased again.

 

"In that case, ser," he said with a hopeful look that made him more endearing, "if there is anything I can do to remedy my error, I beg that you command me to do it."

 

"In that case, my dear Arisen," I told him, "I ask that you come to bed."

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I slowly awakened, feeling wholly content with the warmth next to me that was my beloved Arisen. He was still fast asleep, doubtless exhausted from his battle with the dragon – and here I allowed myself a sly smirk – as well as our own pleasurable melee in bed. A quick glance around the tent told me that it was still dark out, and that we still had a few hours before daylight. I slipped my arm around my sleeping lover’s waist to pull him close, so that his back was pressed against my own chest. My hand slowly travelled higher, halting upon reaching the edges of the scar over his heart. I carefully traced the mark the now-dead dragon had made upon him before resting my palm over his chest, and then marvelled at the faint sensation of his beating heart against my skin. He was free of the wyrm’s curse now, and that thought brought a smile to my lips.

 

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to rest in partial slumber until I felt my beloved stir in my arms. "Did I rouse you from sleep?" I whispered into his ear, and then put my lips to his shoulder in silent apology.

 

He sighed and turned, burying his face in the crook between my neck and shoulder. I felt the delicate, feather-light brush of his eyelashes against my skin as his eyes opened before he asked, "Is it daylight yet?"

 

"No, not yet. You should go back to sleep," I told him.

 

"I will in a moment." He sighed before he confessed, "I’ve no desire to return to Gran Soren in the morning."

 

"Then where will you go?"

 

"Back home to Cassardis." He shifted slightly so he could look at me. "What about you? Will you return to yours?"

 

Return to my own lands? In days past, that would have been a possibility I welcomed. Alas, now I was nothing more than a dishonoured knight, with naught but the clothes on my back – or rather, the clothes that were scattered within the tent in our haste to bed last night. "I haven’t a home to return to any longer," I replied. Doubtless word of my treachery to the duke had reached the ears of my family, and thus I was certain that my return was no longer welcome.

 

"Then, will you – will you come with me?" he asked, hopeful. "My people would be more than happy to receive you. We’re only simple fisherfolk, but we would welcome any new additions to the village. "

 

Life as a fisherman? I had considered taking up a life as a sellsword; trading my armour and weapon for a rod and line had never occurred to me. Nevertheless, it did have some strange sort of appeal. ‘Twas a peaceful and honest vocation at least, which was more than what I could say for what some did for their livelihoods.

 

The boy must have taken my silence for indecision, for he continued, "I haven’t much in possessions, just a small house of my own. ‘Tis nothing grand like what you’re accustomed to, but comfortable enough–"

 

I put a hand to his lips, silencing his nervous chatter. "And I would be more than pleased to share it with you," I told him, and kissed him to reassure him of my honesty. He beamed in pleasure at my response and I could not help but to kiss him again, for his delight was catching.

 

We lay in silence after that, content to let ourselves to fall back into restful slumber. I was already half-asleep when he spoke, mayhap worried that my silence meant that I was reconsidering my decision. "Is there aught amiss?" he asked.

 

"No, I was just thinking."

 

"Oh. What about?" he asked as he drew himself closer into my embrace, seeking warmth.

 

"About how you are less of a minnow and more of a limpet."

 

His response was to punch me in the gut.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

"Are you awake, Master?" called Lucas from outside the tent.

 

The Arisen merely grunted loudly in response, while I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off whatever hold sleep still had on me.

 

"Forgive me Master, Lord Julien," said the pawn, "but the sun has risen. The soldiers of the encampment are calling you for the morning meal." There was a loud rustling as the pawn moved, and I could see by the faint shadows he cast on the tent that he was rubbing the back of his neck. "I would stall them for a while more, but I fear that I lack the necessary knowledge to make a plausible excuse," he apologised, "and Master has never instructed me of the best course when placed in this predicament." There was a considerable pause before the poor myrmidon asked in honest confusion, "Should I ask Haluin what to do?"

 

"Lucas, stop!" the boy exclaimed before he groaned and buried his face in my chest, his cheeks aflame in mortification, whereas I laughed and laughed, feeling a joy in my heart that I have not felt in what seemed to be years.


	9. Chapter 9

The men of Greatwall opined that we should stay another day at the encampment, as they were not thoroughly convinced that we were well enough to travel. "The trek to Gran Soren is long and dangerous, sers," said a guard to our little group, "and just because that damned dragon’s dead, it does not mean there aren’t other beasts about."

 

Privately I thought they were more concerned of their own safety, and would have preferred it if the Arisen and his pawns remained at Greatwall to help defend it, but upon further reflection, mayhap I was judging these men too harshly. It also somewhat amused me that the Arisen did not bother to correct the guard as to our actual destination.

 

The Arisen thanked the men all the same, and bid them good luck and farewell before we left the encampment. As we cautiously made our way down the steep path, careful not to attract the attention of several goblins some distance away, I said to him, "The guard did have a point. ‘Tis indeed a long journey to Gran Soren, and longer still to Cassardis. And the route to Cassardis would still bring us within a good distance to the capital."

 

"I know, and I do not plan on walking all the way home. We will just opt for a faster means of getting there," he replied.

 

"Faster how?"

 

He grinned, and then from one of his pouches, produced a polished stone roughly the size of his hand. It was oval in shape, and dark of hue but for a swirling pattern of silver in its centre; ‘twas what most people called a ferrystone. I knew of the stones’ powers of magical transport, and had also used them on several occasions.

 

"These things are rare, and their prices dear, so I do not use them unless it’s absolutely called for. And this occasion certainly merits such a call, don’t you agree?" he said. He motioned for the pawns to hasten their pace, and we soon reached a small clearing near a pool of foul-looking water. "Best to do this on flat ground," the boy muttered to himself. Once he was certain that we were ready, he hurled the stone into the air, and the world around us seemed to be swept away in a grand and hurried flow of wind and light.

 

I had braced myself for the unsteadiness that I knew would come with the stone’s use, but I still experienced a brief daze when the world settled again beneath my feet, and I found that we were standing on the sandy shores by the sea. I turned around to see the familiar glow of the large crystal that was used in tandem with ferrystones, planted firmly in the ground, but the rest of our surroundings were foreign to me.

 

"We’re at the beach between Cassardis and the Enlistment Corps training encampment," the Arisen announced for my benefit. "The village is only a short walk away." There was a moment of hesitation before he asked, "Coming?"

 

I nodded, and then followed him up the rocky path leading away from the beach. As we climbed, the walls of Cassardis came into view, and I found myself growing more curious about the Arisen’s hometown. The Arisen’s pawn companions seemed pleased to return to their Master’s home, for I heard one of them remarking that the fishing village had a certain relaxing charm that appealed to most pawns.

 

Cassardis’ outer walls were not as impressive compared to other holds I have seen, and neither was the small gate with its rusty portcullis, but it was obvious that the Arisen loved the village dearly, judging by the smile on his face that grew bigger with each step that brought us closer to his home. At the gate, his hand shyly sought mine for a brief squeeze, before he led us all into the village.

 

From the clearing near the gate, I could see small buildings of yellow brick and mortar lining the village’s narrow sandy paths. Boys and girls ran laughing as they wove their way between their elders, who walked about in their daily business. Some had rods and nets on their shoulders, obviously on their way to earn their keep, while others carried baskets of food or jars of water, presumably to their homes. A few were making repairs on a ruined building that was likely damaged in the dragon’s attack on the village, while fewer still sat on the grass, idling their time away in conversation.

 

"Hey cos," a sleepy-eyed man absently greeted the Arisen as we walked further into the village, but his eyes widened a moment later in some kind of realisation. "Wait… cos? Cos! You’re back!" he exclaimed, all traces of lethargy gone. "Did you kill the dragon like you said you would?"

 

"Indeed I did," the boy replied.

 

"I knew it! ‘Tis wonderful news! Oh, then old Adaro needs to hear of this!" the man announced before he sprinted down the path, shouting about the Arisen’s triumphant return as he went.

 

"Killed the dragon, did you?" asked a tiny old woman.

 

"Yes, Iola," he said, "I killed it. We won’t have to worry about the dragon attacking the village again."

 

She did not seem quite convinced. "Is this another one of your japes, minnow? You’d better not be up to more of your mischief."

 

"‘Tis no jape, madam," I assured her, "not at all. The Arisen indeed slew the great wyrm."

 

"My, my," she said, surprised at my interruption, "and who might this fine lordling be? Are you a friend of the minnow?"

 

"This is Julien," said the Arisen, but that was the extent of my introduction. By this time a small crowd had gathered around us, and some of the younger members of the village were whispering excitedly amongst themselves. An old man who was likely the leader of the village, judging from the looks of respect he received from the rest and the way the crowd parted for him, approached us and the whispers soon ceased.

 

"Welcome back," the old man greeted the Arisen, before he turned his attention to me, "and we bid you welcome too, ser." He then held the boy firmly by the shoulders and said, "Well done. Well done indeed! The village is proud of you. Oh, I’d never thought we’d have a fine hero of our own, right here from Cassardis. But now, you must have had a long journey, so run along to your home and get some rest. Selene would be delighted to see you again."

 

The crowd then dispersed – somewhat reluctantly, I observed – as the old man waved them away. A woman with a friendly smile stayed behind however, and patted the Arisen soundly on his back before she announced, "We should throw a feast in your honour! I’ve a recipe for pickled fish eyes that’ll make your mouth water." She clapped her hands in delight, and then exclaimed, "I know! We’ll throw one such feast later today! At the alehouse!"

 

"Pickled fish eyes?" I repeated, eyeing my beloved once the woman left our company.

 

He returned the look with a shrug, and then a sigh. "More likely to make your eyes water, rather than your mouth. But she’s decided that it’s delicious, and nothing would convince her otherwise."

 

"Who was that old man?" I asked as I followed him.

 

"Adaro, the village chief."

 

"And Selene?"

 

"She’s–" he began, then frowned. "You could say she is my little sister. You’ll meet her."

 

He then led me to one of the buildings, then with a flourish, gestured at the door and opened it. "Welcome to my humble abode."

 

The Arisen’s home was a simple one, and I found it a refreshing change from the ostentatious opulence of Gran Soren. The main chamber was sparsely furnished, but functional; a table and a cupboard, a shelf on the wall, some bowls and jars in a corner, and a small bedroll in another. A curtained doorway led to the inner chamber, which was made more comfortable with the fire burning in the clay-lined hearth, and the delicious smell coming from the cooking pot on it. The smaller room held a bed, another cupboard and a few shelves, as well as a pale, dark-haired young girl.

 

"Oh!" she exclaimed, startled at our entrance. "You’ve returned!"

 

"Hello, Selene," the Arisen greeted, and returned her embrace before patting her fondly on the shoulder. "I want you to meet Julien. Julien, this is Selene."

 

"So you’re Julien," said the girl; I thought she had a strange, calming air about her. "He spoke of you often, and always in the fondest of terms," she added, "so ‘tis a pleasure to meet you at last."

 

The Arisen coughed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "They’re holding a small feast later at the alehouse," he said to Selene, "do you think you can give Inez a helping hand? Take Lucas and the others with you, in case there’s heavy lifting or errands that needs done."

 

"Oh, of course!" she agreed readily.

 

"How did she come to be your little sister?" I asked when the strange girl had left.

 

"The tale is long, and a strange one at that." At my motion for him to continue, he said, "Selene was a pawn. She had nowhere else to go when her home was attacked, so she asked if I would take her in. And I did."

 

"Wait, did you just say that she _was_ a pawn?"

 

"She’s human now," he said, nodding. "She has no pawnprint on her hand, unlike Lucas and the rest. I know it all sounds incredible, but ‘tis the truth."

 

"How strange… but no, I do not doubt your words."

 

"Lucas might become human too, one day. That would be good for him," he said somewhat wistfully. "After all the things he’s done for me, and after all we’ve gone through together, I would want him to be human. He more than deserves a proper life of his own."

 

"You’re fond of them, aren’t you? Your pawns."

 

He smiled. "They are like family. Companions who are loyal, even annoying and infuriating at times, but I am fond of them all the same. I do not know how else to explain it." Then he grinned slyly. "Are you jealous, ser?"

 

"Oh, pay no heed to my rambling," I grumbled as I sat on the edge of the bed, "I am simply a little out of sorts, and out of my element." Before he could say a word in response, I quickly tugged him down by the arm that he would sit next to me. "And no, I have not regretted my decision in coming here with you."

 

"Good, because I do not want to be alone in having to suffer Benita’s pickled fish eyes later," he said, before he rolled his eyes and sighed.

 

Pickled fish eyes.

 

As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I simply could not bring myself to look forward to sampling such a dish. Even fighting a pack of hobgoblins blindfolded with one hand tied behind my back while nursing a headache had far greater appeal. I groaned. "Must I go?"

 

"I slew a dragon for you, you ingrate of a knight," he mock-scolded, tapping me on the nose. "Fair is fair."

 

"Oh, very well," I said, relenting, and was rewarded with a quick peck on my cheek. "The things I do for love," I then muttered, while he chuckled and began to distract us from our upcoming culinary fate with more kisses, an action which I approved of and took great pleasure in reciprocating.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

Later, I found myself being crammed into the local alehouse with almost half the village in attendance. "Ah, so you’re the lordling Iola mentioned earlier!" exclaimed the alehouse’s proprietress, a fine woman who introduced herself as Inez, when she greeted our odd little party, "and such a handsome one at that! Oh, the girls would be so excited to have someone like you in the village!"

 

"Thank you, madam," I said in reply as I took a seat at the table. The Arisen sat next to me, and he had an odd little expression on his face, before he frowned at a young woman across the room who seemed to be staring at me. I resisted the urge to grin, for it seemed that my dear Arisen was more than a little touched by jealousy.

 

"And since we’re on the subject, what of your love? Safe and sound, I trust?" she asked the Arisen, and when he answered her by way of sliding an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer, she raised an eyebrow and made a fond chuckle. "It’s not my place, I know," she continued cheerfully, wagging a finger at the both of us, "but I do urge that you cherish what fate’s seen to spare." She then started to set down small jugs of ale on the table. "It sounds foolish to say, but," she said, and sighed before she went on, "I feel keeping love alive is as every bit noble as slaying the dragon, and as needed, now."

 

The girl ceased staring and looked down in disappointment, and I could have sworn I saw the briefest of smirks on the Arisen’s face.

 

"You are such a child," I muttered.

 

The look he gave me was one of poorly-contrived innocence.

 

Aside from the much-dreaded pickled fish eyes, which I sampled with a warrior’s courage and even greater quantities of ale to wash it down, the food served at the small feast was delicious. The alehouse chatter was warm and lively, and just as the Arisen had told me at Greatwall, the villagers were more than happy to welcome a new addition to Cassardis. I, too, was glad that they did not ask why a knight would make such a strange decision, and simply accepted the fact as such.

 

The conversation soon shifted from the Arisen’s return and my arrival, to more mundane matters.

                                                                                                       

"I’m a little worried, chief," said one of the men at the table, "if we can go out to sea with the fishing boats tomorrow. Don’t like the looks of the sky, it’s been dark for a while now."

 

"Don’t worry about it," Adaro said, "‘tis likely just a coming storm. It’ll clear up soon, you’ll see."

 

"Yes," I said to myself as the men nodded in agreement with their chief’s words, "I suppose it will."

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

The sky was still a despondent shade when I rose the next morning.

 

Old soldiering habits die hard, and I had found keeping to my usual routine a great help in getting myself acquainted with new surroundings. It had worked when I first arrived in Gran Soren, and I could not see the reason it would fail to do the same in Cassardis. The sun rose, and I along with it, and though somewhat sleep-addled I was still careful enough not to awaken the man sleeping next to me, slowly disentangling myself from his arms, which were draped loosely around my waist. Or mayhap I had not needed to be so mindful, for he showed no sign of stirring from his deep slumber. The minnow not only clung like a limpet, but also snored much like a contented saurian sunning itself on a rock.

 

A large jar of water in a corner of the room supplied the water for washing, and I took my time getting dressed, listening to the gentle sounds of someone – likely little Selene – moving around in the outer chamber.

 

"Good morning," Selene greeted when I swept the doorway curtain aside and stepped into the room. It seemed that she had just finished tidying up, for she was putting down broom and bucket, while the room looked freshly-swept, and her bedroll was stowed neatly in a corner. I had first thought that she would have preferred the lone bed in the house, but she had declined when offered its use, insisting that she favoured the use of a bedroll as it reminded her of her home and ‘Grandmother’, whom my beloved later told me was actually her own Arisen, a kind woman named Sofiah. She had also stated with childish honesty that we would have needed the bed more, which to my own amusement had the Arisen turning a deep shade of scarlet.

 

"Good morning," I replied.

 

"Has he awakened?"

 

I shook his head. "Let him sleep a while longer, he’s had more than a few flagons of ale to drink last night."

 

"Very well. I’ll be careful not to wake him," she replied.

 

I decided that an early walk would do me some good, as well as give me a chance to acquaint myself with the village and its natives. The very first thing I did when I stepped outside was to look at the sky, and the tiniest feeling of discomfort crept into my heart when I saw that naught had changed, for its hue was as bleak as it was yesterday.

 

My discomfort was likely felt by most of the villagers as well. Although they greeted me with genuine warmth when I approached, I saw more than a few glancing upwards and shaking their heads at the unnatural sky. The cheerful mood I experienced last night was now noticeably muted, and even the pawns had signs of obvious discomfort when they stepped out of the inn, where they customarily spent the night whenever the Arisen was in Cassardis.

 

"Morning, Lord Julien," Lucas greeted.

 

"‘Tis only Julien now," I told him, and hastily amended when I saw that the pawn looked somewhat mortified, "but if you must insist on formalities, Ser Julien will do."

 

"How fares the Master?"

 

"Well enough, and still asleep when I left him," I replied.

 

Then I stilled.

 

At first I thought it was merely a trick of the light, but as I looked closer, I noted that the pawn’s short-cropped hair had indeed lightened ever so slightly from a pure sable to a very deep shade of dark brown, and I could not help but wonder how long would it take for it to lighten to match the wheat-coloured locks of the Arisen. The pawn was slowly changing to resemble his Master even more, and I found myself silently agreeing with my beloved that Lucas was no mere soulless creature; he was a loyal, loving being who was more than entitled to a life of his own.

 

"What do you think of this?" I asked and pointed skyward, before the pawn would realise I had been studying him.

 

He shook his head, his expression grim. "I do not know, Ser Julien. None of us have seen anything like it. I cannot help but feel that it is some kind of dreadful omen."

 

"Then you best discuss this with the Arisen," I said, and then led Lucas and the other pawns back to the house. The pawns remained in the outer chamber to wait for their Master, and I entered the inner room to see the Arisen in his early moments of awakening. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, and a smile surfaced on his lips when his gaze came across me. "Sleep well?" I greeted.

 

"Aye, though I was thinking less of sleep and more of other things."

 

"Carnal things, no doubt," I replied, to which he let out a quick amused laugh. "Lucas and the rest are outside. It’s best you do not keep them waiting."

 

His playful mood quickly receded. "‘Tis the strange colour of the sky, isn’t it?" he said softly, and then sighed with resignation when I nodded. He quickly dressed himself and then stepped outside to meet his pawns, but not before kissing me lightly on one cheek.

 

I had thought of offering my opinion on the matter, but the only option I could think of was going to the capital to see if any of the learned nobles, the members of the Faith, or mayhap the head of the Pawn Guild could impart any knowledge on the situation. Surely those in Gran Soren were not so useless that they knew naught of the strange-looking sky. If the Arisen would later ask for my advice, I shall give it.

 

And though it was admittedly felt somewhat wrong, I found my current predicament rather amusing. Just what had I come here to do? I had originally come to Gransys to help the so-called Dragonsbane slay a dragon, but how that had changed. I grew disillusioned and jaded, and decided that I would take matters into my own hands. And to think that the Arisen only saw it in simpler terms, with no thought of petty things like diplomacy and intrigue. I saw how despite my plans and schemes just how truly insignificant I was in the whole matter, and felt more humbled by my experience. And I told him so when he returned, and thanked him for it.

 

He seemed a little confused at first, before his mind digested what I meant with my words. Then in the tenderest of gestures, he carefully placed the tips of his fingers on my cheeks, and I bent my head down as he lifted his, so our foreheads could meet. "And I too, must thank you," he whispered, "for being one of the reasons that I do the things I must."

 

I smiled. "Just one?"

 

He chuckled. "The most important one, if it makes you feel better."

 

"Are you going to Gran Soren then?" I asked, lowering his hands, now that our moment of affection was gone, but still dearly treasured in my memory.

 

His eyes widened. "How did you know?"

 

"‘Tis the most obvious recourse. And one that should not be delayed," I told him as I followed him into the main chamber.

 

"I suppose you are right. Though I must confess, that I’d rather not leave so quickly," he replied, his reluctance obvious.

 

"Master, you should have a meal first before we go," Lucas said as he retrieved the Arisen’s armour. "‘Tis ill-advised to start a journey on an empty stomach."

 

"Mother hen," Haluin muttered, and then promptly ducked when Lucas hurled a tiny fireball at him.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

My Arisen returned a day later, his face slightly ashen, and his mouth hardened into a tight line. His pawns looked no better off; their own faces were wan and disturbed.

 

"What is it?" I asked when I met him at the clearing near the village gate. A boy – Lewes, if I recalled correctly – had ran to the pier, where I was receiving a lesson on the finer points of fishing, and let me know of the Arisen’s return.

 

"Best discuss this inside," he said, and in a softer tone added, "I do not want to alarm the rest of the village."

 

He kept a bland face as we made our way to our home, but the calm façade dropped when we stepped inside. Before I could ask him what disturbed him so, he broke out in a frenzied rush of words, describing the calamity that had befallen Gran Soren. A great and eerie chasm had emerged in the capital, swallowing countless homes and lives when it made its terrifying appearance. More than half of the capital’s inhabitants now lie dead, and the rest forced to live in refuge areas, seeking what little safety to be had from the swarm of deadly beasts that pit had also unleashed from within its depths.

 

I led him to the bed and made him sit down, and then waited for him to compose himself.

 

After a long, uncomfortable silence, he lowered his eyes and spoke, "There was a family in Gran Soren. They were about to evicted from their home. I had more than enough gold to spare, and they seemed to be decent folk, so I bought the property so they would be able to stay." He raised his head to look at me, and I saw a great amount of guilt in his eyes. "They’re all dead now. The abyss swallowed their home."

 

"I’m sorry," I said to him, and placed my hand on his shoulder. "But you could not have known."

 

"I thought that slaying the dragon would mean the end of it. I had no idea that it would – would cause _this!"_

 

"What of the duke? Surely even he cannot ignore–"

 

"He’s gone mad! The dragon’s death returned his heart and his true age with it, but took away his sanity," the Arisen interrupted, shaking his head. "He blames me, and accuses me of conspiring with the dragon to usurp his throne. He’s declared me a traitor and convinced the castle that I put some sort of curse on him, and now the castle guards would likely kill me on sight." He sighed and added somewhat lamely, "Even Ser Maximilian said that he had no choice to obey the duke."

 

"I know the man. His loyalties will always remain with the duke," I told him, "but I doubt that he would have enjoyed taking you into custody. And I doubt that he even believes the duke’s accusations."

 

"Oh, what am I doing here?" he exclaimed and stood abruptly. "I should be doing aught about that stupid pit! And the monsters now roaming the countryside! I should–"

 

"You should rest," I said to my beloved sternly as I pushed him back to lie on the bed. "A few hours of sleep may not change the circumstances, but will give you a clearer head at least. Then you can decide what to do, instead of rushing ahead like some stubborn fool."

 

He protested at first, but his distress and the exhaustion from his travels must have finally taken a toll on him, for he sighed and closed his eyes, and was asleep within moments. I left him tucked in bed and made for the outer room where the faithful Lucas awaited, while the rest of the myrmidons stood outside.

 

"I wish I could tell you more," the pawn answered when I asked him about the strange abyss the Arisen spoke of, "but even some mysteries remain unknown to us pawns. I had seen naught like it, and I fear that there may be worse things to come."

 

"I should go with him," I mused.

 

"Nay, Ser Julien," Lucas said gently. "He will not risk anything to have any kind of ill upon you. I know that you are a capable warrior yourself, but I also know that the Master will not be able to think clearly in battle with you present. We pawns are expendable – for our kind does not experience death – but you are not."

 

"I do not like this, Lucas," I replied, "not at all. But I must admit that you are right."

 

"I swear to keep him safe as best as I am able," Lucas said. "My life is his, until the end. But now, he needs you more than he needs us." With that, he gave a slight nod and left.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

The sun had set when I returned from a small errand to find my Arisen sitting on the floor of the main chamber, leaning against the wall and staring at nothing. The pawns and Selene had thought to give us privacy, and had all gone to the inn for the night. So deep in thought he was that he failed to notice my coming, and was a little startled when I sat down next to him.

 

"Feel better, minnow?" I asked, choosing to address him in that familiar name in hopes that it would somehow reassure him.

 

It seemed to work, for I was rewarded with a tiny smile. "A little," he said, and then sighed as he leaned against my shoulder. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. "Will you grant me a favour?"

 

"Anything."

 

He reached into the folds of his clothes and somewhat shyly, presented me with the very same ring he had given me to wear back in my cell in the dungeons of Gran Soren. "I know that the last time I asked you to wear this, things turned out to be rather inconvenient for you."

 

I rolled my eyes. "You mean being abducted by a dragon and tortured by goblins was mere inconvenience? How droll."

 

He flushed and his upturned hand swiftly closed, his fingers clutching the ring in a tight fist. "Forgive me, I–"

 

I stilled his words by placing my hand upon his. "I told you afore that it was an honour to wear it," I said as I took the ring from him and put it on my finger, "and I would be more than honoured to wear it again."

 

"Thank you," he whispered.

 

"The pleasure was always mine. Now, come to bed," I said, and then gave my beloved what comfort I could offer his troubled soul, and prayed that it was enough.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I woke to an empty bed in the morning.

 

Alarmed, at first I thought that my Arisen had actually left Cassardis, but a quick glance around showed that his armour and weapons were still neatly stowed away, and he was not _that_ much of a stubborn fool to go out of the village without wearing proper equipment.

 

As I washed and dressed, I noticed that the fire at the hearth had gone out. I proceeded to try and rekindle the flames in the need to chase away the slight chill and to start with the morning meal. My efforts with the flint and tinder however, were laughable, and I was almost glad that no one was there to witness my ineptness.

 

An amused chuckle from the Arisen interrupted my thoughts. So much for not having any witnesses.

 

"Yes?" I said, not bothering to turn to look at him, nor to keep my annoyance from showing in my reply.

 

"Do you mean to glare and frighten that hearth into lighting itself? If so, then you are off to a decent start."

 

"Imp," I told him, but did not stop him from taking the flint and tinder from me.

 

He lit the fire easily enough. "Fancy some grilled fish for the morning?"

 

"Anything but pickled fish eyes would be wondrous," I told him, then had the pleasure to see and hear him laugh.

 

His lighter mood did not last for long, however.

 

"I have to go," he said to me later after we shared our morning meal.

 

"When will you return?"

 

He fell silent. A while passed before he replied, "I don't know."

 

 _If I ever will_.

 

He had not needed to say the words, for I understood, as I had understood then in the duke’s dungeons.

 

His expression turned into one of fierce determination. "But I'll find a way. Somehow."

 

And I believed him.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The sky kept its eerie shade the next day, and the day after.

 

The villagers tried their best to keep up their spirits, but some found it difficult to maintain their usually good cheer. Even the children were less spirited in their play, their young hearts unnerved by the unnatural sky. Nevertheless, desolate sky or not, mouths needed to be fed, so the fishermen still ventured out into the sea with their nets. Homes had to be repaired; the ill had to be cared for; and fresh and dried fish had to be traded for other goods.

 

I tried my best to assist the villagers in any way I could, though not as a fisherman; I simply had not the knack for it. I had some luck with a fishing rod, but not so with the more bulky nets, something which some of the fisherfolk lamented over, as they would have welcomed another strong hand in the boats. So I helped to improve what little fortifications the village had, and instructed a few able-bodied men in the ways of the sword.

 

It soon appeared that the sky was the least of our concerns.

 

"The Brine’s reach seems to have grown," complained one of the men later in the day, when the boats returned. "We could not venture far from the shore and even the fish seem to be rattled, for our catch is smaller than usual."

 

"We’ll have to make do," sighed the old chief, "until this strangeness is over."

 

_But what if it does not come to pass? What if this is our doom?_

 

I knew that all were thinking of the same thing, but no one dared to voice it.

 

"It’ll get better soon, I’m sure of it," said the chief, but I knew from his troubled face that he could not fully convince himself of his own words.

 

The next morning the sky remained dark, and the mood in the village turned more glum as days passed. Some of the villagers turned to the Faith, but the priest Clemente could not provide them the answers they sought, nor could he calm the uneasiness in their hearts when they came to the small village chapel. All he could do was to ask the villagers to be patient, and to pray.

 

I wondered if the villagers prayed for my Arisen’s safe return, as I did.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

The Brine’s greater spread in the waters turned out to be only one in the list of growing troubles faced by Cassardis. Traders were wary of travelling the roads; previously they only had to worry about the odd pack of goblins, but now fearsome canines had appeared to roam near their routes. Dubbed hellhounds by some of the Gransys soldiers, the beasts were capable of breathing flame, and were notoriously difficult to kill.

 

Soon none dared to venture far from Cassardis’ walls. Adaro, the old chief, finally decreed that small trading parties would have to travel with armed escorts in order to obtain supplies for the village, for Cassardis could not survive on fish and what little crop the villagers managed to grow in what fertile space was available. I was more than happy to volunteer as escort, eager to put my own skills with the sword to good use. Soon I found myself accompanying small parties of two or three to the Enlistment Corps encampment, or even further up to the waycastle to Gran Soren, where some of the braver peddlers and traders would temporarily set up shop.  My fellow comrade was Pike, whom like myself, was a stranger who had been accepted into the village, and one other who was familiar with the use of weapons. I knew little of the man; he was proficient with dagger and bow, and that was enough for me. He had volunteered only one thing about himself, but to his own surprise, I cared naught of his past.

 

"I did some thieving," he had stated cautiously when we met in the clearing near the village gate, ready to escort the first of the trading parties.

 

"I started a revolt," I had countered, in my borrowed armour and sword.

 

"You win," he then replied, before he gave an amused laugh.

 

I also had a personal motive in accompanying the trading parties from the village. Each time we went to the encampment or to the waycastle, I would ask the soldiers stationed there if they had any news of my Arisen. When the soldiers told me they heard naught of him, I turned to the pawns, but apart from a cryptic remark from a tall warrior-pawn that even the mysteries of Everfall were hidden from the pawn legion that only served to confuse me further, I still had no news of my beloved. Still, I clung on to my firm belief that he would emerge victorious in whatever duel or fight he faced. For did he not slay a dragon, when few believed – myself included – that he would succeed?

 

Pike and I continued to escort the trading parties; strange hellhounds and equally strange goblins were at times, more than a handful, but through our combined skills and mayhap some luck, the trading parties always returned to Cassardis with much-needed supplies. Our run of good fortune did not last forever, for one day we had the ill luck of encountering a chimera. The strange chimera – for it was darker than the ones I had faced – must have wandered up the rocky paths from the beach just outside of Cassardis’ walls, mayhap attracted by the sounds and smells of our small group. By some miracle we managed to fend off the beast, though not without any losses; almost a third of the party’s traded goods were ruined, scattered as the villagers fled for safety, while Pike and I suffered some injuries. My former thieving friend came out of the melee with a broken leg, while I had more than just a few bruises as well as a savage gash on my arm, almost bone-deep.

 

Benita fussed over us and tended to our injuries when we returned. Pike’s was easily dealt with, as the break was a clean one, and with Pablo’s aid he was sent off to the inn to rest soon enough. My protests of how my wounds were not grave and that I could care for them myself were as easily and swiftly quashed.

 

"Goodness now, there’s no need to make a penance out of it," she grumbled as she wound a linen bandage around my injured arm.

 

"What?" I blurted, taken surprised by her remark.

 

"You’re trying too hard," she said gently, smiling, "and the village greatly appreciate your efforts, but naught would come of you getting hurt – or worse, killed. The village’s got enough food to see us through a few more weeks yet, and if anyone has the gall to complain about eating naught but fish, just let me know and I’ll sock some sense into his or her fool head. Aye, bad things happen, and they even get worse, but they will always come to pass, so there’s neither need nor reason for you to shoulder that entire burden by yourself. We’ve never blamed the minnow for the sky and that great gaping hole in the capital, and frankly, neither should the duke – oh, don’t look at me like that, I’ve heard news from the others. We’re supposed to share our troubles; that’s what the village is for."

 

"He hardly shared his, and yet his burden was the hardest to bear."

 

"The minnow’s a stubborn child, and unlike him, I’m sure that you’ve got more sense in that pretty head of yours," she said, and to emphasise her words she snatched off the last fold of the bandage, making me flinch. "Now go home, get that girl Selene to brew you one of her healing cordials, drink it and go to sleep."

 

"Yes, madam," I said meekly, for I knew when I was soundly defeated. I then did as I was told, and little Selene’s cordial put me into a sleep so deep and restful that I was only awakened the next morning by her shaking me awake, in one of her very rare moments of excitement.

 

"Julien! Wake up! You must hurry and look!" she said, her words rushing out in her enthusiasm.

 

"What? What is it?" I muttered groggily, and winced slightly when she shoved my clothes into my hands with a force that stung my wounded arm.

 

"Outside! Hurry!" She hurried out of the room, and while I dressed as fast as I was able, I heard the sounds of excitement from the villagers outside.

 

I then gasped in wonder when I stepped out of the house, startled at the miracle that greeted my sight.

 

The sky had returned to its glorious shade of blue.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

Cassardis soon had plenty of things to rejoice about in the days following the sky resuming its usual hue. While the Brine was still present in the waters, it had retreated, thus allowing the fishing boats to venture further out into the sea in hopes of seeking better catch. Coupled with the favourable winds – a blessing as well as a good omen, cried many of the fisherfolk – the boats brought back impressive hauls each day. The children, no longer unnerved by the strange sky above them and the glum mood of their elders, resumed their games with genuine cheer, running along the paths of the village with grass-stains on their bare feet.

 

The strange beasts that plagued travellers on the road seemed to have disappeared, mayhap back to whence they came. Traders and peddlers had picked up their usual routes and the village no longer had to send out its trading parties with its armed escorts, much to the relief of the old chief, Adaro. The soldiers from the nearby encampment had resumed their patrols of the roads, and easily dispatched the occasional pack of wolves or goblins, as well as bandits that threatened the regular traveller.

 

And though I no longer had to accompany the villagers when they left the relative safety of Cassardis' walls, I still made it a point to visit the encampment every other day. Adaro and some of the elders worried for me at first as I was still nursing a wounded arm, but I assured them that even with an injury I could easily handle whatever fool wolf, goblin or even armed rogue that thought I would be easy prey.

 

I would have cheerfully fought a pack of bloodthirsty chimeras if it meant getting news of my Arisen.

 

The men of the encampment and their leader, the ever-gruff Ser Berne, have gotten rather used to my quick visits. They did not begrudge me from any news from the capital or the more remote parts of the duchy, and would let me know whatever word or rumour gathered from received missives or passing travellers. It became clear enough that Cassardis was not alone in regaining its good fortune, for similar accounts were received from all over Gransys. The strange beasts were gone, and the few that remained were no longer as savage, choosing mostly to withdraw into the deeper stretches of the forest and avoiding man almost altogether. Work had begun to repair the monstrous damage Gran Soren had suffered when the mysterious crevasse the pawns referred to as the Everfall had appeared; the abyss itself seemed to have changed, and what formerly seemed to be a bottomless pit was now a huge clearing. The duke however, seemed to drift deeper into madness, and had chosen to become a recluse, or mayhap being hidden from the public eye by his worried chamberlains, who did not wish to risk another revolt. Privately I thought that if the duke were to show his face anywhere near me, I would wring his neck, and revel in the act.

 

The myriad amount of pawns at the encampment were no less helpful in answering my inquiries, and some had gained enough emotion from whichever master or mistress they had served to seem genuinely remorseful that they could not tell me of any news of that stubborn boy. "Forgive me ser," said one such mage-pawn, "but I still know naught of the Arisen." He paused, thinking for a moment before he suggested, "It may be a good idea for you to consult the pawn called Johnathan. He is more aware of the movements of the Rift than most of the legion, and mayhap he has more to tell you."

 

"Where might I find this pawn?"

 

"In the tent that houses the Riftstone," he replied, and pointed in the relevant direction.

 

The pawn Johnathan had the appearance of an old and wise man, and was dressed in well-worn robes. "I'm afraid that naught of what I have in stock would be of your interest, ser," he said when I entered the tent.

 

"I come not seeking merchandise, but information about the Arisen," I replied.

 

"The Arisen?" He seemed to study me for a moment, before he slowly nodded. "What do you wish to know?"

 

"What fate has befallen him? Is he alive or dead?"

 

"I’m afraid I lack the knowledge to give you an answer," he replied, and then mayhap feeling some form of pity for this foolish and dishonoured knight, he continued, "but of his pawns, I know that the ones called Robb and Haluin have returned to the Rift."

 

"What of the one called Lucas?" I asked.

 

He shook his head. "I felt naught of the Arisen’s favourite in the Rift."

 

That brought a fresh surge of renewed hope into my heart. The faithful Lucas would never leave his Master’s side; since he had not returned to the strange Rift, that at very least, meant that my Arisen was not alone. Likely he was on some mission or quest of great importance, and was simply unable to send word of his whereabouts.

 

Johnathan then promised to send word if he heard of the Arisen, so I returned home to Cassardis. My mood had improved enough for me to hum a tune as I got ready for bed that night, surprising little Selene.

 

"You seem much… happier today," she commented.

 

"I finally had reason to be," I replied, and then ruffled her hair affectionately before telling her to go to bed.

 

One of the duke’s chamberlains – Fedel, I should think – had once made a disparaging remark about the Arisen having an unsavoury aroma of fish, due to the boy’s backwater origins. I disagreed as I settled myself in bed and inhaled the faint traces of his scent on the pillow, for I thought he smelled of sun-washed white sands and the salty tang of the sea; the scent of warm summer shores.

 

That night, in the most peaceful sleep I had in days, I dreamt of my Arisen.

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I awakened to a chilled room, and for a sleep-addled moment wondered why was my beloved’s body not next to mine, before the even colder truth reminded me that I was in fact, alone. Sighing, I got out of bed and went to rekindle the hearth, which must have gone out some time in the night. Again, I was somewhat inept with the flint and tinder and it took quite a while before the hearth was lit, but even in my groggy state, I could have sworn I heard a familiar chuckle.

 

"Yes?" I instinctively snapped in ill temper, then blinked as I turned around, expecting to see the boy in the doorway with an amused expression on his face.

 

No one stood there, but for the most fleeting of moments, I felt and caught the scent of a summer sea breeze.


	12. Chapter 12

Some days later Selene politely suggested that mayhap I should obtain some new clothes, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was starting to look rather ragged in the one change of clothing I owned and whatever clothes my Arisen had in our home. I found myself mindlessly browsing the stalls at the small village market one morning, before my feet finally carried me to the lone fabric shop in the village.

 

"You look awful, child," said the old woman – Iola, I recalled – minding the small shop, which also doubled as her home. Such careless familiarity was the privilege of elders. "Missing the minnow?" she added in a softer tone meant for my ears alone.

 

"Is it that obvious?"

 

She laughed, but not unkindly. "Quina always worried that boy would one day go where she could not follow, but he’s always managed to come home," she reassured me, patting my forearm. "Don’t worry about him. The minnow will be back soon before we know it, ready to amuse us with his japes and acts of mischief."

 

"I certainly hope so," I replied, for I thought the few days of shared company we had were a mere pittance.

 

She must have had some inkling of my thoughts, judging by her reply. "‘Tis not the amount of time you have that’s important, but rather how you spend it. And I think the both of you spent your time together well enough," she said sagely. "Also, this old woman is certain that you’ll see him again. Still, I don’t see why I should not tell you more of him. What would you like to know?"

 

"Of him? Anything, and everything, I suppose. Did he have any family?"

 

"No, he was an orphaned foundling. Washed ashore as a babe, with naught known of his kith and kin. 'Twas a miracle he was not taken by the Brine. The whole village took him in and Adaro practically raised him, so you could say that we’re all his family. Charming, but stubborn to boot – would go left just because you said to go right – and full of mischief as a little one, and naught has cured him of that all these years."

 

A foundling? So that explained his somewhat changeling appearance as compared to Cassardis’ inhabitants, who were mostly darker of hair and eyes. And I finally had an answer as to why most of the villagers around his age referred to him affectionately as their cousin, or more often, ‘cos’.

 

Iola’s gaze softened. "Come, come," she said gently as she tugged me by the arm, "take a seat. I’ll make you something to drink, and then I’ll tell you all about your dear little minnow."

 

We spent more than a good hour talking, and some of her more amusing tales of my Arisen even had me in stitches. In return, I traded the few accounts I had of him. She was in the middle of telling me of one of his more disastrous pranks, which had left him stranded on the tall roof of the village chapel, when I thought I heard a sigh and again, caught that familiar scent of his, so akin to that of the summer shores.

 

"What is it, child?" Iola asked worriedly, when she realised that something else had my attention.

 

"Nothing," I said, but I was not quite convinced of my own words, "‘twas nothing at all."

 

\--x-x-x--

 

I left Iola’s at noon, and as I walked home I felt a strong, unknown compulsion to go to the beach. ‘Twas indeed an odd time to go there, for it was usually deserted then; the boats would have long left, the fish already set out to dry, and the villagers preferred to stay at home after their midday meal, for the sun was far too hot to do naught but rest.

 

Still not knowing why, I allowed myself of the strange coercion and altered my destination. As I approached the shore, I saw a prone form on the sands, and I could do naught else but hasten my pace. The undoubtedly male figure seemed to stir, before he suddenly sat upright with a muffled shout, but I heard enough of his voice to know that it was more than familiar to me.

 

I reached his side just as he turned around with a dazed look, one that sent me to my knees.

 

"Ju… Julien?" he whispered, as if he could not believe that I was in fact, sitting next to him.

 

And I laughed. Oh, how I laughed with great joy, and I would not be ashamed to admit that I felt my eyes water slightly in relief, for my beloved had returned.

 

"So, my dear Arisen," I said to him with the biggest smile I could muster, "where have you been?"

 

\--x-x-x--

 

My beloved seemed wearied from whatever ordeal he had faced, and though I felt a burning curiosity to know the circumstances which resulted in him being washed ashore, his well-being still came first. Whatever questions I had – and there were plenty – would just have to wait.

 

His first few steps as we walked were steady, but soon he staggered and I found myself supporting him with one arm all the way back to our home. Once we were inside, I stripped him of his damp clothes and gear, then bundled him into bed with the warmest blankets I could find. He sleepily mumbled his thanks before he drifted off into the deep sleep of the exhausted.

 

Not quite sure of what to do, yet at the same time not quite willing to let him out my sight just yet, I sat on the edge of the bed and just watched him sleep. It must have been at least an hour before my cramped muscles cried in protest, and I moved, but only to retrieve a clean rag and a small basin of water. I moistened the piece of cloth and gently cleaned his face and hair, even teasing out some of the salt-crusted knots with my fingers. I deemed that he had warmed enough by then, so I carefully tugged the blankets away to check for wounds. The elegantly formed smooth chest and narrow flanks were just as I remembered, mayhap with a new scar or two; upon closer inspection he seemed unharmed, only exhausted.

 

There was only one remedy for such weariness, and that was sleep. He was still in slumber when Selene came back from some errand and stepped into the chamber, holding the damp clothes I had removed earlier. "Julien, what are these wet things – oh!" she began, but halted when she saw the bed’s sole occupant. She cautiously approached closer, and then knelt beside the bed, one hand gingerly reaching out to brush away some hair away from the boy’s forehead. "Both pawn and Master now," she whispered softly as if to herself, but I heard her all the same. Before I could ask her what she meant by her words, she smiled and said, "I should tell the others that he’s returned. Do not worry, I will make sure that they do not disturb his rest." Then she left, the smile still on her lips.

 

So I remained where I was, more than content just to sit there silently for must have been hours, before he stirred slightly in his sleep and his hand reached out, as if seeking warmth and company. I was then more than happy to give him what he sought, and so I went to lie next to him, before I pulled him close and tucked his head under my chin. I closed my eyes; lulled by the sounds of his gentle breathing, I gladly followed him into deep slumber.

 

When I woke again it was morning, and I was alone. At first I thought I had dreamt it all, until I saw in the outer chamber that Selene had put away my beloved’s equipment, and his clothes were hung out to dry.

 

I then found him at the pier, his bare feet dangling from where he sat at the pier’s edge. He seemed lost in thought, and was idly tracing some unseen pattern on his right palm as he stared out into the sea. I sat next to him, and saw that though his eyes still looked a little tired, he was certainly much restored after a long rest.

 

"So," I began lightly, "aren’t you going to tell me where you’ve been?"

 

"I… I don’t know if I should."

 

His answer puzzled me dearly. "Why not?"

 

He turned to face me, and I saw that he had turned slightly pale. "I… I’m not who you think I am. At least, not wholly. I think. I’m unsure of it all myself."

 

Then I recalled little Selene’s mysterious words when he returned, her hands full of his still-damp clothes. _Both pawn and Master now,_ she said.

 

"… Lucas?" I whispered.

 

But how?

 

He nodded, then violently shook his head, and then wrung his hands in some kind of frustration. And before I could say a word, he regaled me with a fantastic tale of plunging into the Everfall, and how the Arisen had duelled for, and won, the very seat of godhood itself; a majestic throne to sit upon at the edge of skies. How the Arisen claimed the title of Seneschal, whose very will would shape the course of the world itself. And how the victory only brought him naught but misery; doomed to only guide and watch for eternity.

 

And I listened, remaining silent, stunned by his revelation.

 

"It pained him immensely, I'm sure of it," he explained, "of not being able to touch you. Only to observe."

 

"He was here?" I asked. My own voice sounded small, even to my own ears. I closed my eyes.

 

He nodded. "Always. None were able to see him, but he was here. The first thing he did as Seneschal was to look for you."

 

That explained the incident in the house, and mayhap that one time in the market. Those times when I had thought – no, had somehow _known_ – that he was right near me, yet when I turned to look, there was naught of him to be seen.

 

"How long were you two... there?" The question was awkwardly put, but I hoped he would understand what I meant.

 

And he did, by that small, yet sad smile on his face.

 

"It is difficult to explain. Time there has no meaning; past, present and future were all together. It may have been days, months, or even a thousand ages. He… did not wish for you to be alone. He searched long for aught, yet he would not tell me what he was searching for. But I knew him too well." He paused for breath, and then looked at me before continuing, "He was looking for a way for us to return to you." Then he spoke of the Godsbane, and how the blade was the only way to end a Seneschal’s existence, and described in pain how the newly ascended Seneschal had plunged it into his heart.

 

And I remained silent, listening.

 

"I know that I feel all these things for you," he then said softly, "but I do not know whether they are his feelings, or my own. Just as I am unsure if I am myself, or him. Mayhap… we are both."

 

I looked into his eyes. His body was of his Master's, his mannerisms were an odd mixture of both, but his eyes; the warmth they held in those sea-blue orbs, they were that of my dear Arisen.

 

And then I finally understood.

 

The pawn – no, _man_ – in front of me was the last thing my beloved had given unto me, and in a way he _had_ indeed returned, in the only way he could; as part of another that he also cared for deeply.

 

As for Lucas, the pawn wanted to protect his Master, to be with him always. At the same time, Lucas also wanted to be like him. What other greater gift can the Master bestow on his faithful companion, other than giving the pawn his own life, his very own soul and humanity?

 

'Twas then I realised that in the end, the boy simply wanted for the two that he loved the most to be happy. And the path he chose to achieve that end—misguided, foolish, self-sacrificing, _wilful—_ whatever one wished to call it, he chose because he thought it would be best.

 

As I heard him once said, he made his own fate.

 

The stupid, _stubborn_ boy. I smiled.

 

"Do you trust me?" I asked. He nodded, and with such trust in his eyes that I felt some loss when they closed as I gathered him in my arms and put my lips to his in a gentle kiss. It was returned hesitantly at first, before that hesitance was swiftly replaced with the same longing, ardour and love that I had felt only from _him,_ and it was then I knew that somehow – and frankly, how mattered not – I was still embracing my dear Arisen; my beloved, stubborn minnow.

 

If he indeed had made his own fate, then should we not cherish what fate had seen to spare?

 

I drew back, and felt the corner of my lips turn up in a smile.

 

"Julien?" he said in shy confusion.

 

I laughed at his confusion – oh, and at that familiar quizzical tilt of his head – and to my own ears my laughter sounded just as on that moment I found him on the shore. A hearty laugh full of relief, and of great joy.

 

"It’s all right, minnow," I said, and I meant every word as I laid my hand on his lips before he could say anything else. "Now, let’s go home."

 

 

 

\- The End -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only write happy endings, and this was the happiest I could give these two.
> 
> This fic was the result of a dare at some wee hour in the morning since someone thought it was amusing that a certain character in the game shared my first name. Part of the dare involved writing the fic in first person. And since I'm a hopeless idiot when it comes to dares, there you have it. I didn't want to write from the Arisen's point of view, nor the pawns, because that would likely take almost forever to write. So Julien's POV it was. Novelisations were out of the question as well, since I think there are already plenty of fics attempting that path.
> 
> I took some liberties with Julien’s background, but most of the fic is heavily based on the various conversations with NPCs and events in the game. Julien’s speech to the Arisen about making friends with Mercedes; his belief that the duke’s army would fail against the wyrm and so would the Arisen, since he’s only human; even Benita’s pickled fish eyes – all of it is in the game. I even lifted off Inez’s lines about love and fate, as well as the dragon’s speech to the Arisen in the final battle almost word for word.
> 
> The final chapter was based not on Julien’s ending alone, but on a number of other endings as well. Actually, I rather liked the male LI’s endings compared to that of the females. Compared to some of the other female LI endings, where they would make this little speech that made me react in a number of ways, from a ‘….fine…’ to a ‘I SHOULD’VE THROWN YOU OFF A CLIFF’, most male LI endings would just show him smiling and laughing in that scene at the beach. It’s more open to interpretation that way, and I like to think of it as:
> 
> i) they don’t know it’s not really you that just washed up on the beach; or  
> ii) they somehow know, but they don’t care and will still love you anyway.
> 
> As you can see, I prefer the latter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this piece. Cheers.
> 
> P.S. A number of people asked if I had screencaps of the Arisen and his pawn in the fic. There you go.
> 
> http://julien-schu.tumblr.com/post/31100696674/a-few-people-asked-if-i-had-any-images-of-the


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